PHI 


OPPE^ 


J2J2 


THE  HILLMAN 


What  followed  came  like  a  thunder-clap. 
FRONTISPIECE.     See  page  304. 


The  Hillman 


By  E.  PHILLIPS  OPPENHEIM 

Author  of   "The  Kingdom  of  The  Blind" 
"Mr.  Grex  of  Monte  Carlo,"  Etc. 


WITH  FRONTISPIECE 
By  GEORGE  AVISON 


A.  L.  BURT  COMPANY 

Publishers  New  York 

Published  by  Arrangement  with  LITTLE,  BROWN  &  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1917, 
Br  LITTLE,  BROWH,  AND  COMPANY. 


All  right*  reserved 

Published,  January,  1917 

Reprinted.  January,  1917  (twice) 

February,  1917  (twice) 

March,  1917;  April,  1917 


sni 

URU  . 


5/15 


THE  HILLMAN 


Louise,  self-engrossed,  and  with  a  pleasant  sense  of 
detachment  from  the  prospective  inconveniences  of  the 
moment,  was  leaning  back  among  the  cushions  of  the 
motionless  car.  Her  eyes,  lifted  upward,  traveled  past 
the  dimly  lit  hillside,  with  its  patchwork  of  wall-enclosed 
.fields,  up  to  where  the  leaning  clouds  and  the  unseen 
heights  met  in  a  misty  sea  of  obscurity. 

The  moon  had  not  yet  risen,  but  a  faint  and  luminous 
glow,  spreading  like  a  halo  about  the  topmost  peak  of 
that  ragged  line  of  hills,  heralded  its  approach.  Lou- 
ise sat  with  clasped  hands,  rapt  and  engrossed  in  the 
esthetic  appreciation  of  a  beauty  which  found  its  way 
but  seldom  into  her  town-enslaved  life.  She  listened  to 
the  sound  of  a  distant  sheepbell.  Her  eyes  swept  the 
hillsides,  vainly  yet  without  curiosity,  for  any  sign  of 
a  human  dwelling.  The  voices  of  her  chauffeur  and  her 
maid,  who  stood  talking  heatedly  together  by  the  bon- 
net of  the  car,  seemed  to  belong  to  another  world.  She 
had  the  air  of  one  completely  yet  pleasantly  detached 
from  all  material  surroundings. 

The  maid,  leaving  her  discomfited  companion  with  a 
final  burst  of  reproaches,  came  to  the  side  of  the  car. 
Her  voice,  when  she  addressed  her  mistress,  sank  to  a 
lower  key,  but  her  eyes  still  flashed  with  anger. 

"  But   would   madame  believe   it  ? "    she   exclaimed. 


•2  THE  HILLMAN 

"  It  is  incredible !  The  man  Charles  there,  who  calls 
himself  a  chauffeur  of  experience,  declares  that  we  are 
what  he  calls  *  hung  up  '  1  Something  unexpected  has 
happened  to  the  magneto.  There  is  no  spark.  Whose 
fault  can  that  be,  I  ask,  but  the  chauffeur's  ?  And  such 
a  desert  we  have  reached  1  We  have  searched  the  map 
together.  We  are  thirty  miles  from  any  town,  many 
miles  from  even  a  village.  What  a  misfortune !  " 

Louise  turned  her  head  regretfully  away  from  the 
mysterious  spaces.  She  listened  patiently,  but  without 
Any  sort  of  emotion,  to  her  maid's  flow  of  distressed 
words.  She  even  smiled  very  faintly  when  the  girl  had 
finished. 

**  Something  will  happen,"  she  remarked  indiffer- 
ently. "  There  is  no  need  for  you  to  distress  yourself. 
There  must  be  a  farmhouse  or  shelter  of  some  sort  near. 
If  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst,  we  can  spend  the  night 
in  the  car.  We  have  plenty  of  furs  and  rugs.  You 
are  not  a  good  traveler,  Aline.  You  lose  heart  too 
soon." 

The  girl's  face  was  a  study. 

"  Madame  speaks  of  spending  the  night  in  the  car !  " 
she  exclaimed.  "Why,  one  has  not  eaten  since  lunch- 
eon, and  of  all  the  country  through  which  we  have 
passed,  this  is  the  loneliest  and  dreariest  spot." 

Louise  leaned  forward  and  called  to  the  chauffeur. 

"  Charles,"  she  asked,  "  what  has  happened  ?  Are 
we  really  stranded  here  ?  " 

The  man's  head  emerged  from  the  bonnet.  He  came 
round  to  the  side  of  the  car. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  madam,"  he  reported,  "  but  some- 
thing has  gone  wrong  with  the  magneto.  I  shall  have 
to  take  it  to  pieces  before  I  can  tell  exactly  what  is 
wrong.  At  present  I  can't  get  a  spark  of  any  sort." 


THE  HILLMAN  3 

"  There  is  no  hope  of  any  immediate  repair,  then  ?  " 

The  chauffeur  shook  his  head  dolefully. 

"  I  shall  have  to  take  the  magneto  down,  madam,"  he 
said.  "  It  will  take  several  hours,  and  it  ought  to  be 
done  by  daylight." 

"  And  in  the  meantime,  what  do  you  suggest  that  we 
do?  "  she  asked. 

The  man  looked  a  little  helpless.  His  battle  of 
words  with  Aline  had  depressed  him. 

"  I  heard  a  dog  bark  a  little  while  ago,"  he  remarked. 
"  Perhaps  I  had  better  go  and  see  whether  there  isn't 
a  farm  somewhere  near." 

"  And  leave  us  here  alone  ?  "  Aline  exclaimed  indig- 
nantly. **  It  is  a  good  suggestion.  It  comes  well  from 
the  man  who  has  got  us  into  such  trouble ! " 

Her  mistress  smiled  at  her  reassuringly. 

"  What  have  we  to  fear,  you  foolish  girl  ?  For  my- 
self, I  would  like  better  than  anything  to  remain  here 
until  the  moon  comes  over  the  top  of  that  round  hill. 
But  listen!  It  is  just  as  I  told  you.  There  is  no  ne- 
cessity for  Charles  to  leave  us." 

They  all  turned  their  heads.  From  some  distance 
behind  on  the  hard,  narrow  road,  curling  like  a  piece  of 
white  tape  around  the  hillside,  there  came,  faintly  at 
first,  but  more  distinctly  every  moment,  the  sound  of 
horse's  hoofs. 

"  It  is  as  I  told  you,"  Louise  said  composedly. 
"  Some  one  approaches  —  on  horseback,  too.  He  will 
be  able  to  fetch  assistance." 

The  chauffeur  walked  back  a  few  yards,  prepared  to 
give  early  warning  to  the  approaching  horseman.  The 
two  women,  standing  up  in  the  car,  watched  the  spot 
where  the  road,  hidden  for  some  time  in  the  valley,  came 
into  sight. 


V  THE  HILLMAN 

Louder  and  louder  came  the  sound  of  the  beating  of 
hoofs.  Louise  gave  a  little  cry  as  a  man  on  horseback 
appeared  in  sight  at  the  crest  of  the  hill.  The  narrow 
strip  of  road  seemed  suddenly  dwarfed,  an  unreasonable 
portion  of  the  horizon  blotted  out.  In  the  half  light 
there  was  something  almost  awesome  in  the  unusual 
size  of  the  horse  and  of  the  man  who  rode  it. 

"  It  is  a  world  of  goblins,  this,  Aline ! "  her  mistress 
exclaimed  softly.  "  What  is  it  that  comes  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  human  being,  Dieu  merci!  "  the  maid  replied, 
vith  a  matter-of-fact  little  sigh  of  content. 

Conscious  of  the  obstruction  in  the  road,  the  rider 
blackened  his  speed.  His  horse,  a  great,  dark-colored 
animal,  pricked  up  his  ears  when  scarcely  a  dozen  yards 
away  from  the  car,  stopped  short,  and  suddenly  bolted 
out  on  the  open  moor.  There  was  the  sound  of  a  heavy 
whip,  a  loud,  masterful  voice,  and  a  very  brief  struggle, 
during  which  the  horse  once  plunged  and  reared  so  high 
that  Louise,  watching,  cried  out  in  fear.  A  few  mo- 
ments later,  however,  horse  and  rider,  the  former  quiv- 
ering and  subdued,  were  beside  the  car. 

"Has  anything  happened?"  the  newcomer  asked, 
raising  his  whip  to  his  hat. 

He  addressed  Louise,  instinctively  conscious,  even  in 
that  dim  light,  that  she  was  the  person  in  authority. 

She  did  not  at  once  reply.  Her  eyes  were  fixed  upon 
the  face  of  her  questioner.  There  was  little  enough  of 
him  to  be  seen,  yet  she  was  aware  of  an  exceptional  in- 
terest in  his  dimly  revealed  personality.  He  was 
.young,  unusually  tall,  and  his  voice  was  cultivated. 
Beyond  that,  she  could  see  or  divine  nothing. 

He,  for  his  part,  with  his  attention  still  largely  en- 
gaged in  keeping  his  horse  under  control,  yet  knew,  in 
those  first  few  moments,  that  he  was  looking  into  the 


THE  HILLMAN  5 

face  of  a  woman  who  had  no  kinship  with  the  world  in 
which  he  had  been  born  and  had  lived  his  days.  Those 
were  fugitive  thoughts  which  passed  between  them,  only 
half  conceived,  yet  strong  enough  to  remain  as  first  and 
unforgetable  impressions.  Then  the  commonplace  in- 
terests of  the  situation  became  insistent. 

"  I  have  broken  down,"  Louise  said.  "  My  chauffeur 
tells  me  that  it  will  take  hours  to  effect  some  necessary 
repair  to  the  car.  And  meanwhile  —  here  we  are !  " 

"  You  couldn't  have  chosen  a  worse  place  for  a  break- 
down," the  young  man  observed.  "  You  are  miles 
away  from  anywhere." 

"  You  are  indeed  a  comforter ! "  Louise  murmured. 
"  Do  you  think  that  you  could  possibly  get  down- 
and  advise  us  what  to  do?  You  look  so  far  away  up 
there." 

There  was  another  brief  struggle  between  the  man 
and  his  still  frightened  horse.  Then  the  former  swung 
himself  down,  and,  with  the  bridle  through  his  arm, 
came  and  stood  by  the  car. 

"  If  there  is  any  way  in  which  I  can  help,"  he  ven- 
tured, "  I  am  quite  at  your  service." 

Louise  smiled  at  him.  She  remained  unoppressed  by 
any  fear  of  inconvenience  or  hardship.  She  had  the 
air  of  one  rather  enjoying  her  plight. 

"  Well,  you  have  begun  very  nicely  by  (doing  what  I 
asked  you,"  she  said.  "  Really,  you  know,  to  an  im- 
pressionable person  there  was  something  rather  terrify- 
ing about  you  when  you  appeared  suddenly  from  out  of 
the  shadows  in  such  a  lonely  place.  I  was  beginning 
to  wonder  whether  you  were  altogether  real,  whether 
one  of  those  black  hills  there  had  not  opened  to  let  you 
out.  You  see,  I  know  something  of  the  legends  of  your 
country,  although  I  have  never  been  here  before." 


6  THE  HILLMAN 

The  young  man  was  less  at  his  ease.  He  stood  tap- 
ping his  boot  nervously  with  his  long  riding-whip. 

"  I  am  sorry  if  I  frightened  you,"  he  said.  "  My 
horse  is  a  little  restive,  and  the  acetylene  light  which 
your  chauffeur  turned  on  him  was  sufficiently  alarm- 
ing." 

"  You  did  not  exactly  frighten  me,"  she  assured  him, 
"  but  you  looked  so  abnormally  large.  Please  tell  us 
what  you  would  advise  us  to  do.  Is  there  a  village  near, 
or  an  inn,  or  even  a  barn?  Or  shall  we  have  to  spend 
the  night  in  the  car?  " 

*'  The  nearest  village,"  he  replied,  "  is  twelve  miles 
away.  Fortunately,  my  own  home  is  close  by.  I  shall 
be  very  pleased  —  I  and  my  brother  —  if  you  will  honor 
us.  I  am  afraid  I  cannot  offer  you  very  much  in  the 
way  of  entertainment  — " 

She  rose  briskly  to  her  feet  and  beamed  upon  him. 

"  You  are  indeed  a  good  Samaritan ! "  she  exclaimed. 
"  A  roof  is  more  than  we  had  dared  to  hope  for,  al- 
though when  one  looks  up  at  this  wonderful  sky  and 
breathes  this  air,  one  wonders,  perhaps,  whether  a  roof, 
after  all,  is  such  a  blessing." 

"  It  gets  very  cold  toward  morning,"  the  young  man 
said  practically. 

"  Of  course,"  she  assented.  "  Aline,  you  will  bring 
my  dressing-bag  and  follow  us.  This  gentleman  is  kind 
enough  to  offer  us  shelter  for  the  night.  Dear  me,  you 
really  are  almost  as  tall  as  you  appeared ! "  she  added, 
as  she  stood  by  his  side.  "  For  the  first  time  in  my  life 
you  make  me  feel  undersized." 

He  looked  down  at  her,  a  little  more  at  his  ease  now 
by  reason  of  the  friendliness  of  her  manner,  although 
he  had  still  the  air  of  one  embarked  upon  an  adventure, 
the  outcome  of  which  was  to  be  regarded  with  some 


THE  HILLMAN  7 

qualms.  She  was  of  little  more  than  medium  height, 
and  his  first  impressions  of  her  were  that  she  was  thin, 
and  too  pale  to  be  good-looking;  that  her  eyes  were 
large  and  soft,  with  eyebrows  more  clearly  defined  than 
is  usual  among  Englishwomen ;  and  that  she  moved  with- 
out seeming  to  walk. 

"  I  suppose  I  am  tall,"  he  admitted,  as  they  started 
off  along  the  road.  "  One  doesn't  notice  it  around 
here.  My  name  is  John  Strangewey,  and  our  house  is 
just  behind  that  clump  of  trees  there,  on  the  top  of  the 
hill.  We  will  do  our  best  to  make  you  comfortable," 
he  added  a  little  doubtfully ;  "  but  there  are  only  my 
brother  and  myself,  and  we  have  no  women  servants  in 
the  house." 

"A  roof  of  any  sort  will  be  a  luxury,"  she  assured 
him.  "  I  only  hope  that  we  shall  not  be  a  trouble  to 
you  in  any  way." 

"  And  your  name,  please  ?  "  he  asked. 

She  was  a  little  amazed  at  his  directness,  but  she 
answered  him  without  hesitation. 

"  My  name,"  she  told  him,  "  is  Louise." 

He  leaned  down  toward  her,  a  little  puzzled. 

"  Louise?     But  your  surname?  " 

She  laughed  softly.  It  occurred  to  him  that  nothing 
like  her  laugh  had  ever  been  heard  on  that  gray-walled 
stretch  of  mountain  road. 

"Never  mind!  I  am  traveling  incognito.  Who  I 
am,  or  where  I  am  going  —  well,  what  does  that  matter 
to  anybody?  Perhaps  I  do  not  know  myself.  You  can 
imagine,  if  you  like,  that  we  came  from  the  heart  of  your 
hills,  and  that  to-morrow  they  will  open  again  and  wel- 
come us  back." 

*'  I  don't  think  there  are  any  motor-cars  in  fairy- 
land," he  objected. 


8  THE  HILLMAN 

"  We  represent  a  new  edition  of  fairy  lore,"  she  told 
him.  "  Modern  romance,  you  know,  includes  motor- 
cars and  even  French  maids." 

"  All  the  same,"  he  protested,  with  masculine  blunt- 
ness,  "  I  really  don't  see  how  I  can  introduce  you  to  my 
brother  as  '  Louise  from  fairyland.'  " 

She  evaded  the  point. 

"  Tell  me  about  your  brother.  Is  he  as  tall  as  you, 
and  is  he  younger  or  older?  " 

"  He  is  nearly  twenty  years  older,"  her  companion 
replied.  "  He  is  about  my  height,  but  he  stoops  more 
than  I  do,  and  his  hair  is  gray.  I  am  afraid  that  you 
may  find  him  a  little  peculiar." 

Her  escort  paused  and  swung  open  a  white  gate  on 
their  left-hand  side.  Before  them  was  an  ascent  which 
seemed  to  her,  in  the  dim  light,  to  be  absolutely  pre- 
cipitous. 

"  Do  we  have  to  climb  up  that?  "  she  asked  ruefully. 

"  It  isn't  so  bad  as  it  looks,"  he  assured  her,  "  and  I 
am  afraid  it's  the  only  way  up.  The  house  is  at  the 
bend  there,  barely  fifty  yards  away.  You  can  see  a 
light  through  the  trees." 

"  You  must  help  me,  then,  please,"  she  begged. 

He  stooped  down  toward  her.  She  linked  her  fingers 
together  through  his  left  arm,  and,  leaning  a  little 
heavily  upon  him,  began  the  ascent.  He  was  conscious 
of  some  subtle  fragrance  from  her  clothes,  a  perfume 
strangely  different  from  the  odor  of  the  ghostlike  flow- 
ers that  bordered  the  steep  path  up  which  they  were 
climbing.  Her  arms,  slight,  warm  things  though  they 
were,  and  great  though  his  own  strength,  felt  suddenly 
like  a  yoke.  At  every  step  he  seemed  to  feel  their 
weight  more  insistent  —  a  weight  not  physical,  solely 
due  to  this  rush  of  unexpected  emotions. 


THE  HILLMAN  9 

It  was  he  now  whose  thoughts  rushed  away  to  that 
medley  of  hill  legends  of  which  she  had  spoken.  Was 
she  indeed  a  creature  of  flesh  and  blood,  of  the  same 
world  as  the  dull  people  among  whom  he  lived?  Then 
he  remembered  the  motor-car^  the  chauffeur,  and  the 
French  maid,  and  he  gave  a  little  sigh  of  relief. 

"  Are  we  nearly  there  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Do  tell  me  if 
I  lean  too  heavily  upon  you." 

'*  It  is  only  a  few  steps  further,"  he  replied  encourag- 
ingly. "  Please  lean  upon  me  as  heavily  as  you  like." 

She  looked  around  her  almost  in  wonder  as  her  com- 
panion paused  with  his  hand  upon  a  little  iron  gate. 
From  behind  that  jagged  stretch  of  hills  in  the  distance 
a  corner  of  the  moon  had  now  appeared.  By  its  light, 
looking  backward,  she  could  see  the  road  which  they  had 
left  below,  the  moorland  stretching  away  into  misty 
space,  an  uneasy  panorama  with  its  masses  of  gray 
boulders,  its  clumps  of  gorse,  its  hillocks  and  hollows. 

Before  her,  through  the  little  iron  gate  which  her  es- 
cort had  pushed  open,  was  a  garden,  a  little  austere 
looking  with  its  prim  flower-beds,  filled  with  hyacinths 
and  crocuses,  bordering  the  flinty  walks.  The  trees 
were  all  bent  in  the  same  direction,  fashioned  after  one 
pattern  by  the  winds.  Before  them  was  the  house  —  a 
long,  low  building,  part  of  it  covered  with  some  kind  of 
creeper. 

As  they  stepped  across  the  last  few  yards  of  lawn, 
the  black,  oak  door  which  they  were  approaching  sud- 
denly opened.  A  tall,  elderly  man  stood  looking  in- 
quiringly out.  He  shaded  his  eyes  with  his  hands. 

"  Is  that  you,  brother?  "  he  asked  doubtfully. 

John  Strangewey  ushered  his  companion  into  the 
square,  oak-paneled  hall,  hung  with  many  trophies  of 
the  chase,  a  few  oil-paintings,  here  and  there  some 


io  THE  HILLMAN 

sporting  prints.  It  was  lighted  only  with  a  single 
lamp  which  stood  upon  a  round,  polished  table  in  the 
center  of  the  white-flagged  floor. 

"  This  lady's  motor-car  has  broken  down,  Stephen," 
John  explained,  turning  a  little  nervously  toward  his 
brother.  "  I  found  them  in  the  road,  just  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  hill.  She  and  her  servants  will  spend  the 
night  here.  I  have  explained  that  there  is  no  village  or 
inn  for  a  good  many  miles." 

Louise  turned  graciously  toward  the  elder  man,  who 
was  standing  grimly  apart.  Even  in  those  few  sec- 
onds, her  quick  sensibilities  warned  her  of  the  hostility 
which  lurked  behind  his  tightly  closed  lips  and  steel- 
gray  eyes.  His  bow  was  stiff  and  uncordial,  and  he 
made  no  movement  to  offer  his  hand. 

"  We  are  not  used  to  welcoming  ladies  at  Peak  Hall, 
madam,"  he  said.  "  I  am  afraid  that  you  will  find  us 
somewhat  unprepared  for  guests." 

"  I  ask  for  nothing  more  than  a  roof,"  Louise  as- 
sured him. 

John  threw  his  hat  and  whip  upon  the  round  table 
and  stood  in  the  center  of  the  stone  floor.  She  caught 
a  glance  which  flashed  between  the  two  men  —  of  ap- 
peal from  the  one,  of  icy  resentment  from  the  other. 

"  We  can  at  least  add  to  the  roof  a  bed  and  some 
supper  —  and  a  welcome,"  John  declared.  "  Is  that 
not  so,  Stephen  ?  " 

The  older  man  turned  deliberately  away.  It  was  as 
if  he  had  not  heard  his  brother's  words. 

"  I  will  go  and  find  Jennings,"  he  said.  "  He  must 
be  told  about  the  servants." 

Louise  watched  the  disappearing  figure  until  it  was 
out  of  sight.  Then  she  looked  up  into  the  face  of  the 
younger  man,  who  was  standing  by  her  side. 


THE  HILLMAN  n 

"I  am  sorry,"  she  murmured  apologetically.  "I 
am  afraid  that  your  brother  is  not  pleased  at  this  sud- 
den intrusion.  Really,  we  shall  give  you  very  little 
trouble." 

He  answered  her  with  a  sudden  eager  enthusiasm. 
He  seemed  far  more  natural  then  than  at  any  time  since 
he  had  ridden  up  from  out  of  the  shadows  to  take  his 
place  in  her  life. 

"  I  won't  apologize  for  Stephen,"  he  said.  "  He  is 
a  little  crotchety.  You  must  please  be  kind  and  not 
notice.  You  must  let  me,  if  I  can,  offer  you  welcome 
enough  for  us  both." 


II 

Louise,  with  a  heavy,  silver-plated  candlestick  in  her 
hand,  stood  upon  the  uneven  floor  of  the  bedroom  to 
which  she  had  been  conducted,  looking  up  at  the  oak- 
framed  family  tree  which  hung  above  the  broad  chim- 
ney-piece. She  examined  the  coat  of  arms  emblazoned 
in  the  corner,  and  peered  curiously  at  the  last  neatly 
printed  addition,  which  indicated  Stephen  and  John 
Strangewey  as  the  sole  survivors  of  a  diminishing  line. 
When  at  last  she  turned  away,  she  found  the  name  upon 
her  lips. 

"  Strangewey ! "  she  murmured.  "  John  Strange- 
wey! The  name  seems  to  bring  something  into  my 
memory.  Have  I  ever  known  any  one  with  such  a 
name,  Aline?" 

The  maid  shook  her  head. 

"  Never,  madame,  to  the  best  of  my  belief,"  she  de- 
clared. "  Yet  I,  too,  seem  to  have  heard  it,  and  lately. 
It  is  perplexing.  One  has  seen  it  somewhere.  One 
finds  it  familiar." 

Louise  shrugged  her  shoulders.  She  stood  for  a  mo- 
ment looking  around  her  before  she  laid  down  the 
candlestick. 

The  room  was  of  unusual  size,  with  two  worm-eaten 
beams  across  the  ceiling ;  the  windows  were  casemented, 
with  broad  seats  in  each  recess.  The  dressing  table, 
upon  which  her  belongings  were  set  out,  was  of  solid, 
black  oak,  as  was  also  the  framework  of  the  huge 


THE  HILLMAN  13 

sofa,  the  mirror,  and  the  chairs.  The  ancient  four- 
poster,  hung  with  chintz  and  supported  by  carved 
pillars,  was  spread  with  fine  linen  and  covered  with  a 
quilt  made  of  small  pieces  of  silk,  lavender-perfumed. 
The  great  wardrobe,  with  its  solid  mahogany  doors, 
seemed  ancient  enough  to  have  stood  in  its  place  since 
the  building  of  the  house  itself.  A  log  of  sweet-smell- 
ing wood  burned  cheerfully  in  the  open  fireplace. 

"  Really,"  Louise  decided,  "  we  have  been  most  for- 
tunate. This  is  an  adventure!  Aline,  give  me  some 
black  silk  stockings  and  some  black  slippers.  I  will 
change  nothing  else." 

The  maid  obeyed  in  somewhat  ominous  silence.  Her 
mistress,  however,  was  living  in  a  little  world  of  her 
own. 

"John  Strangewey!"  she  murmured  to  herself, 
glancing  across  the  room  at  the  family  tree.  "  It  is- 
really  curious  how  that  name  brings  with  it  a  sense  of 
familiarity.  It  is  so  unusual,  too.  And  what  an  un- 
usual-looking person!  Do  you  think,  Aline,  that  you 
ever  saw  any  one  so  superbly  handsome  ?  " 

The  maid's  little  grimace  was  expressive. 

"  Never,  madame,"  she  replied.  "  And  yet  to  think 
of  it  —  a  gentleman,  a  person  of  intelligence,  who  lives 
here  always,  outside  the  world,  with  just  a  terrible  old 
man  servant,  the  only  domestic  in  the  house!  Nearly 
all  the  cooking  is  done  at  the  bailiff's,  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  away." 

Louise  nodded  thoughtfully. 

"  It  is  very  strange,"  she  admitted.  "  I  should  like 
to  understand  it.  Perhaps,"  she  added,  half  to  herself, 
*'  some  day  I  shall." 

She  passed  across  the  room,  and  on  her  way  paused 
before  an  old  cheval-glass,  before  which  were  suspended 


14  THE  HILLMAN 

two  silver  candlesticks  containing  lighted  wax  candles. 
She  looked  steadfastly  at  her  own  reflection.  A  little- 
smile  parted  her  lips.  In  the  bedroom  of  this  quaint 
farmhouse  she  was  looking  upon  a  face  and  a  figure 
which  the  illustrated  papers  and  the  enterprise  of  the 
modern  photographer  had  combined  to  make  familiar 
to  the  world. 

A  curious  feeling  came  to  her  that  she  was  looking 
at  the  face  of  a  stranger.  She  gazed  earnestly  into  the 
mirror,  with  new  eyes  and  a  new  curiosity.  She  con- 
templated critically  the  lines  of  her  slender  figure  in 
its  neat,  perfectly  tailored  skirt  —  the  figure  of  a  girl, 
it  seemed,  notwithstanding  her  twenty-seven  years. 
Her  soft,  white  blouse  was  open  at  the  neck,  displaying 
a  beautifully  rounded  throat.  Her  eyes  traveled  up- 
ward, and  dwelt  with  an  almost  passionate  interest  upon 
the  oval  face,  a  little  paler  at  that  moment  than  usual ; 
with  its  earnest,  brown  eyes,  its  faint,  silky  eyebrows, 
its  strong,  yet  mobile  features;  its  lips  a  little  full, 
perhaps,  but  soft  and  sensitive ;  at  the  masses  of  brown 
hair  drawn  low  over  her  ears. 

This  was  herself,  then.  Did  she  really  justify  her 
reputation  for  beauty,  or  was  she  just  a  cult,  the  pass- 
ing craze  of  a  world  a  little  weary  of  the  ordinary 
standards?  Or,  again,  was  it  only  her  art  that  had 
focused  the  admiration  of  the  world  upon  her? 

How  would  she  seem  to  these  two  men  down-stairs, 
she  asked  herself  —  the  dour,  grim  master  of  the  house, 
and  her  more  youthful  rescuer,  whose  coming  had  some- 
how touched  her  fancy?  They  saw  so  little  of  her  sex. 
They  seemed,  in  a  sense,  to  be  in  league  against  it. 
Would  they  find  out  that  they  were  entertaining  an 
angel  unawares? 

She  thought  with  a  gratified  smile  of  her  incognito. 


THE  HILLMAN  i$ 

It  was  a  real  trial  of  her  strength,  this!  When  she 
turned  away  from  the  mirror  the  smile  still  lingered 
upon  her  lips,  a  soft  light  of  anticipation  was  shining 
in  her  eyes. 

John  met  her  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  She  noticed 
with  some  surprise  that  he  was  wearing  the 'dinner- 
jacket  and  black  tie  of  civilization. 

"Will  you  come  this  way,  please?"  he  begged. 
"  Supper  is  quite  ready." 

He  held  open  the  door  of  one  of  the  rooms  on  the 
other  side  of  the  hall,  and  she  passed  into  a  low  dining 
room,  dimly  lit  with  shaded  lamps.  The  elder  brother 
rose  from  his  chair  as  they  entered,  although  his  salu- 
tation was  even  grimmer  than  his  first  welcome.  He 
.was  wearing  a  dress-coat  of  old-fashioned  cut,  and  a 
black  stock,  and  he  remained  standing,  without  any 
smile  or  word  of  greeting,  until  she  had  taken  her  seat. 
Behind  his  chair  stood  a  very  ancient  man  servant  in  a 
gray  pepper-and-salt  suit,  with  a  white  tie,  whose  ex- 
pression, at  the  entrance  of  this  unexpected  guest, 
seemed  curiously  to  reflect  the  inhospitable  instincts  of 
his  master. 

Although  conscious  of  this  atmosphere  of  antago- 
nism, Louise  looked  around  her  with  frank  admiration  as 
she  took  her  place  in  the  high-backed  chair  which  John 
was  holding  for  her.  The  correctness  of  the  setting 
appealed  strongly  to  her  artistic  perceptions.  The 
figures  and  features  of  the  two  men  —  Stephen,  tall, 
severe,  stately;  John,  amazingly  handsome,  but  of  the 
same  type;  the  black-raftered  ceiling;  the  Jacobean 
sideboard;  the  huge  easy  chairs;  the  fine  prints  upon 
the  walls ;  the  pine  log  which  burned  upon  the  open 
hearth  —  nowhere  did  there  seem  to  be  a  single  alien 
or  modern  note. 


X6  THE  HILLMAN 

The  table  was  laid  with  all  manner  of  cold  dishes, 
supplemented  by  others  upon  the  sideboard.  There 
were  pots  of  jam  and  honey,  a  silver  teapot  and  silver 
spoons  and  forks  of  quaint  design,  strangely  cut  glass, 
and  a  great  Dresden  bowl  filled  with  flowers. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  John  remarked,  "  that  you  are  not 
used  to  dining  at  this  hour.  My  brother  and  I  are 
very  old-fashioned  in  our  customs.  If  we  had  had  a 
little  longer  notice  — " 

"  I  never  in  my  life  saw  anything  that  looked  so  de- 
licious as  your  cold  chicken,"  Louise  declared.  "  May 
I  have  some  —  and  some  ham?  I  believe  that  you  must 
farm  some  land  yourselves.  Everything  looks  as  if  it 
were  home-made  or  home-grown." 

"  We  are  certainly  farmers,"  John  admitted,  with  a 
smile,  "  and  I  don't  think  there  is  much  here  that  isn't 
of  our  own  production." 

'*  Of  course,  one  must  have  some  occupation,  living- 
so  far  out  of  the  world,"  Louise  murmured.  "  I  really 
am  the  most  fortunate  person,"  she  continued.  "  My 
car  comes  to  grief  in  what  seems  to  be  a  wilderness,  and 
I  find  myself  in  a  very  palace  of  plenty ! " 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  your  maid  agrees,"  John 
laughed.  "  She  seemed  rather  horrified  when  she  found 
that  there  was  no  woman  servant  about  the  place." 

"  Aline  is  spoiled,  without  a  doubt,"  her  mistress  de- 
clared. "  But  is  that  really  the  truth?  " 

"  Absolutely." 

"But  how  do  you  manage?"  Louise  went  on. 
"  Don't  you  need  dairymaids,  for  instance?  " 

"  The  farm  buildings  are  some  distance  away  from 
the  house,"  John  explained.  "  There  is  quite  a  little 
colony  at  the  back,  and  the  woman  who  superintends 
the  dairy  lives  there.  It  is  only  in  the  house  that 


THE  HILLMAN  17 

we  are  entirely  independent  of  your  sex.  We  man- 
age, somehow  or  other,  with  Jennings  here  and  two 
boys." 

"  You  are  not  both  woman-haters,  I  hope?  " 

Her  younger  host  flashed  a  warning  glance  at  Louise, 
but  it  was  too  late.  Stephen  had  laid  down  his  knife 
and  fork  and  was  leaning  in  her  direction. 

"  Madam,'*  he  intervened,  "  since  you  have  asked  the 
question,  I  will  confess  that  I  have  never  known  any 
good  come  to  a  man  of  our  family  from  the  friendship 
or  service  of  women.  Our  family  history,  if  ever  you 
should  come  to  know  it,  would  amply  justify  my  brother 
and  myself  for  our  attitude  toward  your  sex." 

"  Stephen !  "  John  remonstrated,  a  slight  frown  upon 
his  face.  '*  Need  you  weary  our  guest  with  your  pecu- 
liar views?  It  is  scarcely  polite,  to  say  the  least  of 
it." 

The  older  man  sat,  for  a  moment,  grim  and  silent. 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,  brother,"  he  admitted. 
"  This  lady  did  not  seek  our  company,  but  it  may  in- 
terest her  to  know  that  she  is  the  first  woman  who  has 
crossed  the  threshold  of  Peak  Hall  for  a  matter  of  six, 
years." 

Louise  looked  from  one  to  the  other,  half  incredu- 
lously. 

"  Do  you  really  mean  it  ?  Is  that  literally  true  ?  " 
she  asked  John. 

"  Absolutely,"  the  young  man  assured  her ;  "  but 
please  remember  that  you  are  none  the  less  heartily 
welcome  here.  We  have  few  women  neighbors,  and  in- 
tercourse with  them  seems  to  have  slipped  out  of  our 
lives.  Tell  me,  how  far  have  you  come  to-day,  and 
where  did  you  hope  to  sleep  to-night  ?  " 

Louise  hesitated  for  a  moment.     For  some  reason  or 


i8  THE  HILLMAN 

other,  the  question  seemed  to  bring  with  it  some  un- 
expected and  disturbing  thought. 

"  I  was  motoring  from  Edinburgh.  As  regards  to- 
night, I  had  not  made  up  my  mind.  I  rather  hoped  to 
reach  Kendal.  My  journey  is  not  at  all  an  interesting 
matter  to  talk  about,"  she  went  on.  "  Tell  me  about 
your  life  here.  It  sounds  most  delightfully  pastoral. 
Do  you  really  mean  that  you  produce  nearly  everything 
yourselves?  Your  honey  and  preserves  and  bread  and 
butter,  for  instance  —  are  they  all  home-made?" 

"  And  our  hams,"  the  young  man  laughed,  "  and 
everything  else  upon  the  table.  You  underestimate  the 
potentiality  of  male  labor.  Jennings  is  certainly  a  bet- 
ter cook  than  the  average  woman.  Everything  you  see 
was  cooked  by  him.  We  have  a  sort  of  secondary 
kitchen,  though,  down  at  the  bailiff's,  where  the  pre- 
serves are  made  and  some  of  the  other  things." 

"And  you  live  here  all  the  year  round?  "  she  asked. 

"  My  brother,"  John  told  her,  "  has  not  been  further 
away  than  the  nearest  market-town  for  nearly  twenty 
years." 

Her  eyes  grew  round  with  astonishment. 

"  But  you  go  to  London  sometimes?  " 

"  I  was  there  eight  years  ago.  Since  then  I  have 
not  been  further  away  than  Carlisle  or  Kendal.  I  go 
into  the  camp  near  Kendal  for  three  weeks  every  year 
—  Territorial  training,  you  know." 

"  But  how  do  you  pass  your  time?  What  do  you  do 
with  yourself?"  she  asked. 

"  Farm,"  he  answered.  "  Farming  is  our  daily  oc- 
cupation. Then  for  amusement  we  hunt,  shoot,  and 
fish.  The  seasons  pass  before  we  know  it." 

She  looked  appraisingly  at  John  Strangewey.  Not- 
withstanding his  sun-tanned  cheeks  and  the  splendid 


THE  HILLMAN  19 

vigor  of  his  form,  there  was  nothing  in  the  least  agri- 
cultural about  his  manner  or  his  appearance.  There 
was  humor  as  well  as  intelligence  in  his  clear,  gray  eyes. 
She  opined  that  the  books  which  lined  one  side  of  the 
room  were  at  once  his  property  and  his  hobby. 

"  It  is  a  very  healthy  life,  no  doubt,"  she  said ;  "  but 
somehow  it  seems  incomprehensible  to  think  of  a  man 
like  yourself  living  always  in  such  an  out-of-the-way 
corner,  with  no  desire  to  see  what  is  going  on  in  the 
world,  or  to  be  able  to  form  any  estimate  of  the  changes 
in  men's  thoughts  and  habits.  Human  life  seems  to  me 
so  much  more  interesting  than  anything  else.  Does 
this  all  sound  a  little  impertinent?"  she  wound  up 
naively.  "  I  am  so  sorry !  My  friends  spoil  me,  I  be- 
lieve, and  I  get  into  the  habit  of  saying  things  just  as 
they  come  into  my  head." 

John's  lips  were  open  to  reply,  but  Stephen  once 
more  intervened. 

*'  Life  means  a  different  thing  to  each  of  us,  madam," 
he  said  sternly.  "  There  are  many  born  with  the  lust 
for  cities  and  the  crowded  places  in  their  hearts,  born 
with  the  desire  to  mingle  with  their  fellows,  to  absorb 
the  conventional  vices  and  virtues,  to  become  one  of 
the  multitude.  It  has  been  different  with  us  Strange- 
weys." 

Jennings,  at  a  sign  from  his  master,  removed  the  tea 
equipage,  evidently  produced  in  honor  of  their  visitor. 
Three  tall-stemmed  glasses  were  placed  upon  the  table, 
and  a  decanter  of  port  reverently  produced. 

Louise  had  fallen  for  a  moment  or  two  into  a  St  of 
abstraction.  Her  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  opposite 
wall,  from  which,  out  of  their  faded  frames,  a  row  of 
grim-looking  men  and  women,  startlingly  like  her  two 
hosts,  seemed  to  frown  down  upon  her. 


so  THE  HILLMAN 

"  Is  that  your  father  ?  "  she  asked,  moving  her  head 
toward  one  of  the  portraits. 

"  My  grandfather,  John  Strangewey,"  Stephen  told 
her. 

"  Was  he  one  of  the  wanderers  ?  " 

"  He  left  Cumberland  only  twice  during  his  life.  He 
was  master  of  hounds,  magistrate,  colonel  in  the  yeo- 
manry of  that  period,  and  three  times  he  refused  to 
stand  for  Parliament." 

"  John  Strangewey !  "  Louise  repeated  softly  to  her- 
self. "  I  was  looking  at  your  family  tree  up-stairs," 
she  went  on.  "  It  is  curious  how  both  my  maid  and 
myself  were  struck  with  a  sense  of  familiarity  about  the 
name,  as  if  we  had  heard  or  read  something  about  it 
quite  lately." 

Her  words  were  almost  carelessly  spoken,  but  she 
was  conscious  of  the  somewhat  ominous  silence  which 
ensued.  She  glanced  up  wonderingly  and  intercepted 
a  rapid  look  passing  between  the  two  men.  More 
puzzled  than  ever,  she  turned  toward  John  as  if  for  an 
explanation.  He  had  risen  somewhat  abruptly  to  his 
feet,  and  his  hand  was  upon  the  back  of  her  chair. 

"  Will  it  be  disagreeable  to  you  if  my  brother  smokes 
a  pipe?"  he  asked.  "I  tried  to  have  our  little  draw- 
ing-room prepared  for  you,  but  the  fire  has  not  been 
lit  for  so  long  that  the  room,  I  am  afraid,  is  quite  im- 
possible." 

"  Do  let  me  stay  here  with  you,"  she  begged ;  "  and 
I  hope  that  both  of  you  will  smoke.  I  am  quite  used 
to  it." 

John  wheeled  up  an  easy  chair  for  her.  Stephen, 
stiff  and  upright,  sat  on  the  other  side  of  the  hearth. 
He  took  the  tobacco- jar  and  pipe  that  his  brother  had 
brought  him,  and  slowly  filled  the  bowl. 


THE  HILLMAN  21 

"  With  your  permission,  then,  madam,"  he  said,  as 
he  struck  a  match. 

Louise  smiled  graciously.  Some  instinct  prompted 
her  to  stifle  her  own  craving  for  a  cigarette  and  keep 
her  little  gold  case  hidden  in  her  pocket.  All  the  time 
her  eyes  were  wandering  around  the  room.  Suddenly 
she  rose  and,  moving  round  the  table,  stood  once  more 
facing  the  row  of  gloomy-looking  portraits. 

*'  So  that  is  your  grandfather,"  she  remarked  to 
John,  who  had  followed  her.  "  Is  your  father  not 
here?" 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  My  father's  portrait  was  never  painted." 

"  Tell  the  truth,  John,"  Stephen  en j  oined,  rising  in 
his  place  and  setting  down  his  pipe.  "  Our  father's 
portrait  is  not  here,  madam,  because  he  was  one  of 
those  of  whom  I  have  spoken  —  one  of  those  who  were 
drawn  into  the  vortex  of  the  city,  and  who  knew  only 
jthe  shallow  ways  of  life.  Listen ! " 

With  a  heavy  silver  candlestick  in  either  hand,  Ste- 
phen crossed  the  room.  He  raised  them  high  above  his 
head  and  pointed  to  the  pictures  one  by  one. 

"  John  Robert  Strangewey,  our  great-grandfather," 
he  began.  "  That  picture  was  a  presentation  from  the 
farmers  of  Cumberland.  He,  too,  was  a  magistrate, 
and  held  many  public  offices  in  the  county. 

"  By  his  side  is  his  brother,  Stephen  George  Strange- 
wey. For  thirty-five  years  he  took  the  chair  at  the 
farmers'  ordinary  at  Market  Ketton  on  every  Saturday 
at  one  o'clock,  and  there  was  never  a  deserving  man  in 
this  part  of  the  county,  engaged  in  agricultural  pur- 
suits, who  at  any  time  sought  his  aid  in  vain.  They 
always  knew  where  he  was  to  be  found,  and  every  Satur- 
day, before  dinner  was  served,  there  would  be  some  one 


22  THE  HILLMAN 

there  to  seek  his  aid  or  advice.  He  lived  his  life  to  his 
own  benefit  and  to  the  benefit  of  his  neighbors  —  the 
life  which  we  are  all  sent  here  to  lead. 

"  Two  generations  before  him  you  see  my  namesake, 
Stephen  Strangewey.  It  was  he  who  invented  the  first 
threshing-machine  used  in  this  county.  He  farmed  the 
land  that  my  brother  and  I  own  to-day.  He  was 
churchwarden  at  our  little  church,  and  he,  too,  was  a 
magistrate.  He  did  his  duty  in  a  smaller  way,  but 
zealously  and  honestly,  among  the  hillmen  of  this  dis- 
trict." " 

"  There  are  gaps  in  your  family  history,"  Louise 
observed. 

"  The  gaps,  madam,"  Stephen  explained,  "  are  left 
by  those  who  have  abandoned  their  natural  heritage. 
We  Strangeweys  were  hillfolk  and  farmers,  by  descent 
and  destiny,  for  more  than  four  hundred  years.  Our 
place  is  here  upon  the  land,  almost  among  the  clouds, 
and  those  of  us  who  have  realized  it  have  led  the  lives 
God  meant  us  to  lead.  There  have  been  some  of  our 
race  who  have  been  tempted  into  the  lowlands  and  the 
cities.  Not  one  of  them  brought  honor  upon  our  name. 
Their  pictures  are  not  here.  They  are  not  worthy  to 
be  here." 

Stephen  se.t  down  the  candlesticks  and  returned  to  his 
place.  Louise,  with  her  hands  clasped  behind  her  back, 
glanced  toward  John,  who  still  stood  by  her  side. 

"  Tell  me,"  she  asked  him,  "  have  none  of  your  peo- 
ple who  went  out  into  the  world  done  well  for  them- 
selves ?  " 

"  Scarcely  one,"  he  admitted.  "  My  brother's  words 
seem  a  little  sweeping,  but  they  are  very  near  the  truth. 
The  air  of  the  great  cities  seems  to  have  poisoned  every 
Strangewey  — " 


THE  HILLMAN  23 

"  Not  one,"  Stephen  interrupted.  "  Colonel  John 
Strangewey  died  leading  his  regiment  at  Waterloo,  an 
end  well  enough,  but  reached  through  many  years  of 
evil  conduct  and  loose  living." 

"  He  was  a  brave  soldier,"  John  put  in  quietly. 

"That  is  true,"  Stephen  admitted.  "His  best 
friends  have  claimed  no  other  quality  for  him. 
Madam,"  he  went  on,  turning  toward  Louise,  "  lest  my 
welcome  to  you  this  evening  should  have  seemed  inhos- 
pitable, let  me  tell  you  this.  Every  Strangewey  who 
has  left  our  county,  and  trodden  the  downward  path  of 
failure,  has  done  so  at  the  instance  of  one  of  your  sex. 
That  is  why  those  of  us  who  inherit  the  family  spirit 
lgok  askance  upon  all  strange  women.  That  is  why  no 
woman  is  ever  welcome  within  this  house." 

Louise  resumed  her  seat  in  the  easy  chair. 

"  I  am  so  sorry,"  she  murmured,  looking  down  at  her 
slipper.  "  I  could  not  help  breaking  down  here, 
could  I?" 

"  Nor  could  my  brother  fail  to  offer  you  the  hospi- 
tality of  this  roof,"  Stephen  admitted.  "  The  incident 
was  unfortunate  but  inevitable.  It  is  a  matter  for  re- 
gret that  we  have  so  little  to  offer  you  in  the  way  of 
entertainment."  He  rose  to  his  feet.  The  door  had 
been  opened.  Jennings  was  standing  there  with  a 
candlestick  upon  a  massive  silver  salver.  Behind  him 
was  Aline.  "  You  are  doubtless  fatigued  by  your  jour- 
ney, madam,"  Stephen  concluded. 

Louise  made  a  little  grimace,  but  she  rose  at  once  to 
her  feet.  She  understood  quite  well  that  she  was  being 
sent  to  bed,  and  she  shivered  a  little  when  she  looked 
at  the  hour  —  barely  ten  o'clock.  Yet  it  was  all  in 
keeping.  From  the  doorway  she  looked  back  into  the 
room,  in  which  nothing  seemed  to  have  been  touched  for 


24  THE  HILLMAN 

centuries.  She  stood  upon  the  threshold  to  bid  her 
final  good-night,  fully  conscious  of  the  complete  anach- 
ronism of  her  presence  there. 

Her  smile  for  Stephen  was  respectful  and  full  of 
dignity.  As  she  glanced  toward  John,  however,  some- 
thing flashed  in  her  eyes  and  quivered  at  the  corners 
of  her  lips,  something  which  escaped  her  control,  some- 
thing which  made  him  grip  for  a  moment  the  back  of  the 
chair  against  which  he  stood.  Then,  between  the  old 
man  servant,  who  insisted  upon  carrying  her  candle  to 
her  room,  and  her  maid,  who  walked  behind,  she  crossed 
the  white  stone  hall  and  stepped  slowly  up  the  broad 
flight  of  stairs. 


Ill 

Louise  awoke  the  next  morning  filled  with  a  curious 
sense  of  buoyant  expectancy.  The  sunshine  was  pour- 
ing into  the  room,  brightening  up  its  most  somber  cor- 
ners. It  lay  across  the  quilt  of  her  bed,  and  seemed  to 
bring  out  the  perfume  of  lavender  from  the  pillow  on 
which  her  head  reposed. 

,    Aline,  hearing  her  mistress  stir,  hastened  at  once  to 
the  bedside. 

"  Good  morning,  madame!  " 

Louise  sat  up  and  looked  around  her,  with  her  hands 
clasped  about  her  knees. 

"  Tell  me  everything,  Aline,"  she  said.  "  Have  you 
my  breakfast  there?  And  what  time  is  it?" 

"  It  is  half-past  nine,  madame"  Aline  replied,  "  and 
your  breakfast  is  here.  The  old  imbecile  from  the 
kitchen  has  just  brought  it  up." 

Louise  looked  approvingly  at  the  breakfast  tray, 
with  the  home-made  bread  and  deep-yellow  butter,  the 
brown  eggs  and  clear  honey.  The  smell  of  the  coffee 
was  aromatic.  She  breathed  a  little  sigh  of  content. 

"  How  delicious  everything  looks !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  The  home-made  things  are  well  enough  in  their 
way,  madame"  Aline  agreed,  "  but  I  have  never  known 
a  household  so  strange  and  disagreeable.  That  M. 
Jennings,  who  calls  himself  the  butler  —  he  is  a  person 
unspeakable,  a  savage !  " 

Louise's  eyes  twinkled. 

1 


25  THE  HILLMAN 

"  I  don't  think  they  are  fond  of  women  in  this  house- 
hold, Aline,"  she  remarked.  "  Tell  me,  have  you  seen 
Charles?" 

"  Charles  has  gone  to  the  nearest  blacksmith's  forge 
to  get  something  made  for  the  car,  madame"  Aline  re- 
plied. "  He  asked  me  to  say  that  he  was  afraid  he 
would  not  be  ready  to  start  before  midday." 

"  That  does  not  matter,"  Louise  declared,  as  she 
settled  down  to  her  breakfast.  "  I  do  not  care  how 
long  it  is  before  he  is  ready.  I  should  love  to  spend  a 
month  here ! " 

Aline  held  up  her  hands.  She  was  speechless.  Her 
mistress  laughed  at  her  consternation. 

"  Well,"  she  continued,  "  there  is  no  fear  of  their 
asking  us  for  a  month,  or  for  an  hour  longer  than  they 
can  help.  The  elder  Mr.  Strangewey,  it  seems,  has  the 
strongest  objection  to  our  sex.  There  is  not  a  woman 
servant  in  the  house,  is  there?  " 

"  Not  one,  madame"  Aline  replied.  "  I  have  never 
been  in  a  household  conducted  in  such  a  manner.  It  is 
like  the  kitchen  of  a  monastery.  The  terrible  Jennings 
is  speechless.  If  one  addresses  him,  he  only  mumbles. 
The  sound  of  my  skirts,  or  my  footstep  on  the  stone 
floor,  makes  him  shiver.  He  is  worse,  one  would  im- 
agine, than  his  master." 

Louise  ate  and  drank  reflectively. 

"  It  is  the  queerest  household  one  could  possibly 
stumble  upon,"  she  remarked.  "  The  young  Mr. 
Strangewey  —  he  seems  different,  but  he  falls  in  with 
his  brother's  ways." 

Aline  glanced  at  herself  in  the  mirror.  She  was  just 
out  of  her  mistress's  range  of  vision,  and  she  made  a 
little  grimace  at  her  reflection. 

"  I  met  him  twice  this  morning  in  the  hall,"  she  re- 


THE  HILLMAN  27 

marked.  "  He  wished  me  good  morning  the  first  time. 
The  second  time  he  did  not  speak.  He  did  not  seem  to 
see  me." 

Louise  finished  her  breakfast  and  strolled  presently 
to  the  window.  She  gave  a  little  sigh  of  pleasure  as 
she  looked  out. 

"  But,  Aline,"  she  exclaimed,  "  how  exquisite !  " 

The  maid  glanced  over  her  shoulder  and  went  on  pre- 
[ paring  her  mistress's  clothes. 

"  It  is  as  madame  finds  it,"  she  replied.  "  For  my- 
self, I  like  the  country  for  fete  days  and  holidays  only, 
and  even  then  I  like  to  find  plenty  of  people  there." 

Louise  heard  nothing.  She  was  gazing  eagerly  out 
of  the  casement-window.  Immediately  below  was  a 
grass-grown  orchard  which  stretched  upward,  at  a  pre- 
cipitous angle,  toward  a  belt  of  freshly  plowed  field; 
beyond,  a  little  chain  of  rocky  hHls,  sheer  overhead. 
The  trees  were  pink  and  white  with  blossom ;  the  petals 
lay  about  upon  the  ground  like  drifted  snowflakes. 
Here  and  there  yellow  jonquils  were  growing  among  the 
long  grass.  A  waft  of  perfume  stole  into  the  room 
through  the  window  which  she  had  opened. 

"  Fill  my  bath  quickly,  Aline,"  Louise  ordered.  "  I 
must  go  out.  I  want  to  see  whether  it  is  really  as  beau- 
tiful as  it  looks." 

Aline  dressed  her  mistress  in  silence.  It  was  not 
until  she  had  finished  lacing  her  shoes  that  she  spoke 
another  word.  Then,  suddenly,  she  stopped  short  in 
the  act  of  crossing  the  room.  Her  eyes  had  happened 
to  fall  upon  the  emblazoned  genealogical  record.  A 
little  exclamation  escaped  her.  She  swung  round 
toward  her  mistress,  and  for  once  there  was  animation 
in  her  face. 

"  But,   madame**   she   exclaimed,   "  I  have   remem- 


28  THE  HILLMAN 

bered !  The  name  Strangewey  —  you  see  it  there  —  it 
was  in  our  minds  all  the  time  that  we  had  seen  or  heard 
of  it  quite  lately.  Don't  you  remember  — " 

"  Yes,  yes !  "  Louise  interrupted.  "  I  know  it  re- 
minds me  of  something,  but  of  what  ?  " 

"  Yesterday  morning,"  Aline  continued,  "  it  was  you 
madame,  who  read  it  out  while  you  took  your  coffee. 
You  spoke  of  the  good  fortune  of  some  farmer  in  the 
north  of  England  to  whom  a  relative  in  Australia  had 
left  a  great  fortune  —  hundreds  and  thousands  of 
pounds.  The  name  was  Strangewey,  the  same  as  that. 
I  remember  it  now." 

She  pointed  once  more  to  the  family  tree.  Louise 
sat  for  a  moment  with  parted  lips. 

"  You  are  quite  right,  Aline.  I  remember  it  all  per- 
fectly now.  I  wonder  whether  it  could  possibly  be 
either  of  these  two  men ! " 

Aline  shook  her  head  doubtfully. 

"  It  would  be  unbelievable,  madame,"  she  decided. 
"  Could  any  sane  human  creatures  live  here,  with  no 
company  but  the  sheep  and  the  cows,  if  they  had  money 
—  money  to  live  in  the  cities,  to  buy  pleasures,  to  be 
happy?  Unbelievable,  madame!  " 

Louise  remained  standing  before  the  window.  She 
was  watching  the  blossom-laden  boughs  of  one  of  the 
apple  trees  bending  and  swaying  in  the  fresh  morning 
breeze  —  watching  the  restless  shadows  which  came  and 
went  upon  the  grass  beneath. 

"That  is  just  your  point  of  view,  Aline,"  she  mur- 
mured ;  "  but  happiness  —  well,  you  would  not  under- 
stand. They  are  strange  men,  these  two.  The  young 
one  is  different  now,  but  as  he  grows  older  he  will  be  like 
his  brother.  He  will  live  a  very  simple  and  honorable 
life.  He  will  be  —  what  is  it  they  call  it  ? —  a  county 


THE  HILLMAN  29 

magistrate,  chairman  of  many  things,  a  judge  at  agri- 
cultural shows.  When  he  dies,  he  will  be  buried  up  in 
that  windy  little  churchyard,  and  people  will  come  from 
a  long  way  off  to  say  how  good  he  was.  My  hat, 
quickly,  Aline!  If  I  am  not  in  that  orchard  in  five 
minutes  I  shall  be  miserable ! " 

Louise  found  her  way  without  difficulty  across  a 
cobbled  yard,  through  a  postern  gate  set  in  a  red-brick 
wall,  into  the  orchard.  Very  slowly,  and  with  her 
head  turned  upward  toward  the  trees,  she  made  her  way 
toward  the  boundary  wall.  Once,  with  a  little  exclama- 
tion of  pleasure,  she  drew  down  a  bough  of  the  soft,  cool 
blossom  and  pressed  it  against  her  cheek.  She  stopped 
for  a  moment  or  two  to  examine  the  contents  of  a  row 
of  chicken-coops,  and  at  every  few  steps  she  turned 
around  to  face  the  breeze  which  came  sweeping  across 
the  moorland  from  the  other  side  of  the  house. 

Arrived  at  the  farther  end  of  the  orchard,  she  came 
to  a  gate,  against  which  she  rested  for  a  moment,  lean- 
ing her  arms  upon  the  topmost  bar.  Before  her  was 
the  little  belt  of  plowed  earth,  the  fresh,  pungent  odor 
of  which  was  a  new  thing  to  her;  a  little  way  to  the 
right,  the  rolling  moorland,  starred  with  clumps  of 
gorse;  in  front,  across  the  field  on  the  other  side  of 
the  gray  stone  wall,  the  rock-strewn  hills.  The  sky  — 
unusually  blue  it  seemed  to  her,  and  dotted  all  over 
with  little  masses  of  fleecy,  white  clouds  —  seemed  some- 
how lower  and  nearer ;  or  was  she,  perhaps  higher  up  ? 

She  lingered  there,  absolutely  bewildered  by  the  rapid 
growth  in  her  brain  and  senses  of  what  surely  must  be 
some  newly  kindled  faculty  of  appreciation.  There 
was  a  beauty  in  the  world  which  she  had  not  felt  before. 

She  turned  her  head  almost  lazily  at  the  sound  of  a 
man's  voice.  A  team  of  horses,  straining  at  a  plo\v, 


30  THE  HILLMAN 

were  coming  round  the  bend  of  the  field,  and  by  their 
side,  talking  to  the  laborer  who  guided  them,  was  John 
Strangewey.  She  watched  him  as  he  came  into  sight 
up  the  steep  rise.  Against  the  empty  background,  he 
seemed  to  lose  nothing  of  the  size  and  strength  that  had 
impressed  her  on  the  previous  night.  He  was  bare- 
headed, and  she  noticed  for  the  first  time  that  his 
closely  cropped  fair  hair  was  inclined  to  curl  a  little 
near  the  ears. 

He  walked  in  step  with  the  plowman  by  his  side,  but 
without  any  of  the  laborer's  mechanical  plod  —  with  a 
spring  in  his  footsteps,  indeed,  as  if  his  life  and 
thoughts  were  full  of  joyous  things.  He  was  wearing 
black-and-white  tweed  clothes,  a  little  shabby  but  well- 
fitting  ;  breeches  and  gaiters ;  thick  boots,  plentifully 
caked  now  with  mud.  He  was  pointing  with  his  stick 
along  the  furrow,  so  absorbed  in  the  instructions  he  was 
giving  that  he  was  almost  opposite  the  gate  before  he 
was  aware  of  her  presence.  He  promptly  abandoned 
his  task  and  approached  her. 

"  Good  morning !  "  he  called  out. 

She  waved  her  hand. 

"  Good  morning! " 

"  You  have  slept  well?  "  he  asked. 

"  Better,  I  think,  than  ever  before  in  my  life,"  she 
answered.  **  Differently,  at  any  rate.  And  such  an 
awakening ! " 

He  looked  at  her,  a  little  puzzled.  The  glow  upon 
her  face  and  the  sunlight  upon  her  brown  hair  kept  him 
silent.  He  was  content  to  look  at  her  and  wonder. 

"  Tell  me,"  she  demanded  impetuously,  "  is  this  a 
little  corner  of  fairy-land  that  you  have  found?  Does 
the  sun  always  shine  like  this?  Does  the  earth  always 
smell  as  sweetly,  and  are  your  trees  always  in  blossom? 


THE  HILLMAN  31 

Does  your  wind  always  taste  as  if  God  had  breathed  the 
elixir  of  life  into  it?  " 

He  turned  around  to  follow  the  sweep  of  her  eyes. 
Something  of  the  same  glow  seemed  to  rest  for  a  mo- 
ment upon  his  face. 

"  It  is  good,"  he  said,  "  to  find  what  you  love  so  much 
appreciated  by  some  one  else." 

They  stood  together  in  a  silence  almost  curiously 
protracted.  Then  the  plowman  passed  again  with  his 
team  of  horses,  and  John  called  out  some  instructions 
to  him.  She  followed  him  down  to  earth. 

"  Tell  me,  Mr.  Strangewey,"  she  inquired,  "  where 
are  your  farm-buildings  ?  " 

"  Come  and  I  will  show  you,"  he  answered,  opening 
the  gate  to  let  her  through.  "  Keep  close  to  the  hedge 
until  we  come  to  the  end  of  the  plow;  and  then  —  but 
no,  I  won't  anticipate.  This  way !  " 

She  walked  by  his  side,  conscious  every  now  and  then 
of  his  frankly  admiring  eyes  as  he  looked  down  at  her. 
She  herself  felt  all  the  joy  of  a  woman  of  the  world  im- 
bibing a  new  experience.  She  did  not  even  glance 
toward  the  dismantled  motor  in  the  barn  which  they 
passed. 

"  I  am  glad,"  he  remarked  presently,  "  that  you  look 
upon  us  more  charitably  than  your  maid." 

"  Aline  is  a  good  girl,"  Louise  said,  smiling,  "  but 
hot-water  taps  and  electric  lights  are  more  to  her  than 
sunshine  and  hills.  Do  you  know,"  she  went  on,  "  I 
feel  like  a  child  being  led  through  an  undiscovered  coun- 
try, a  land  of  real  adventures.  Which  way  are  we 
going,  and  what  are  we  going  to  see?  Tell  me, 
please ! " 

"  Wait,"  he  begged.  "  It  is  just  a  queer  little  corner 
among  the  hills,  that  is  all." 


32  THE  HILLMAN 

They  reached  the  end  of  the  plowed  field,  and,  pass- 
ing through  a  gate,  turned  abruptly  to  the  left  and  be- 
gan to  climb  a  narrow  path  which  bordered  the  bound- 
ary wall,  and  which  became  steeper  every  moment.  As 
they  ascended,  the  orchard  and  the  long,  low  house  on 
the  other  side  seemed  to  lie  almost  at  their  feet.  The 
road  and  the  open  moorland)  beyond,  stretching  to 
the  encircling  hills,  came  more  clearly  into  sight  with 
every  backward  glance.  Louise  paused  at  last,  breath- 
less. 

**  I  must  sit  down,"  she  insisted.  "  It  is  too  beauti- 
ful to  hurry  over." 

"  It  is  only  a  few  steps  farther,"  he  told  her,  holding 
out  his  hand;  "just  to  where  the  path  winds  its  way 
round  the  hill  there.  But  perhaps  you  are  tired  ?  " 

"  On  the  contrary,"  she  assured  him,  "  I  never  felt  so 
vigorous  in  my  life.  All  the  exercise  I  take,  as  a  rule, 
is  in  Kensington  Gardens ;  and  look ! "  She  pointed 
downward  to  her  absurd  little  shoes,  and  held  out  her 
hand,  "  You  will  have  to  help  me,"  she  pleaded. 

The  last  few  steps  were,  indeed,  almost  precipitous. 
Fragments  of  rock,  protruding  through  the  grass  and 
bushes,  served  as  steps.  John  moved  on  a  little  ahead 
and  pulled  her  easily  up.  Even  the  slight  tightening 
of  his  fingers  seemed  to  raise  her  from  her  feet.  She 
looked  at  him  wonderingly. 

"  How  strong  you  are !  " 

"  A  matter  of  weight,"  he  answered,  smiling.  "  You 
are  like  a  feather.  You  walk  as  lightly  as  the  fairies 
who  come  out  on  midsummer  night's  eve  and  dance  in 
circles  around  the  gorse-bushes  there." 

"  Is  it  the  home  of  the  fairies  you  are  taking  me  to?  " 
she  asked.  "  If  you  have  discovered  that,  no  wonder 
you  find  us  ordinary  women  outside  your  lives ! " 


THE  HILLMAN  33 

He  laughed. 

"  There  are  no  fairies  where  we  are  going,"  he  as- 
sured her. 

They  were  on  a  rough-made  road  now,  which  turned 
abruptly  to  the  right  a  few  yards  ahead,  skirting  the 
side  of  a  deep  gorge.  They  took  a  few  steps  further, 
and  Louise  stopped  short  with  a  cry  of  wonder. 

Around  the  abrupt  corner  an  entirely  new  perspec- 
tive was  revealed  —  a  little  hamlet,  built  on  a  shoulder 
of  the  mountains;  and  on  the  right,  below  a  steep  de- 
scent, a  wide  and  sunny  valley.  It  was  like  a  tiny 
world  of  its  own,  hidden  in  the  bosom  of  the  hills. 
There  was  a  long  line  of  farm-buildings,  built  of  gray 
stone  and  roofed  with  red  tiles;  there  were  fifteen  or 
twenty  stacks;  a  quaint,  white-washed  house  of  con- 
siderable size,  almost  covered  on  the  southward  side 
with  creepers ;  a  row  of  cottages,  and  a  gray-walled  en- 
closure —  stretching  with  its  white  tombstones  to  the 
very  brink  of  the  descent  —  in  the  midst  of  which  was 
an  ancient  church,  in  ruins  at  the  further  end,  partly 
rebuilt  with  the  stones  of  the  hillside. 

Louise  looked  around  her,  silent  with  wonder.  A 
couple  of  sheep-dogs  had  rushed  out  from  the  farm- 
house and  were  fawning  around  her  companion.  In 
the  background  a  gray-bearded  shepherd,  with  Scot- 
tish plaid  thrown  over  his  shoulder,  raised  his  hat. 

"It  isn't  real,  is  it?"  she  asked,  clinging  for  a  mo- 
ment to  John  Strangewey's  arm. 

He  patted  one  of  the  dogs  and  smiled  down  at  her. 

"  Why  not  ?  William  Elwick  there  is  a  very  real 
shepherd,  I  can  assure  you.  He  has  sat  on  these  hills 
for  the  last  sixty-eight  years." 

She  looked  at  the  old  man  almost  with  awe. 

"  It  is  like  the  Bible ! "  she  murmured.     "  Fancy  the 


34  THE  HILLMAN 

sunrises  he  must  have  seen,  and  the  sunsets !  The  com- 
ing and  the  fading  of  the  stars,  the  spring  days,  the 
music  of  the  winds  in  these  hollow  places,  booming  to 
him  in  the  night-time!  I  want  to  talk  to  him. 
May  I?" 

He  shook  his  head.  The  old  man  was  already 
shambling  off. 

"  Better  not,"  he  advised.  "  You  would  be  disap- 
pointed, for  William  has  the  family  weakness  —  he  can- 
not bear  the  sight  of  a  woman.  You  see,  he  is  pretend- 
ing now  that  there  is  something  wrong  with  the  hill 
flock.  You  asked  where  the  land  was  that  we  tilled. 
Now  look  down.  Hold  my  arm  if  you  feel  giddy." 

She  followed  the  wave  of  his  ash  stick.  The  valley 
sheer  below  them,  and  the  lower  hills,  on  both  sides, 
were  parceled  out  into  fields,  enclosed  within  stone  walls, 
reminding  her,  from  the  height  at  which  they  stood,  of 
nothing  so  much  as  the  quilt  upon  her  bed. 

"  That's  where  all  our  pasture  is,"  he  told  her,  "  and 
our  arable  land.  We  grow  a  great  deal  of  corn  in  the 
dip  there.  All  the  rest  of  the  hillside,  and  the  moor- 
lands, of  course,  are  fit  for  nothing  but  grazing;  but 
there  are  eleven  hundred  acres  down  there  from  which 
we  can  raise  almost  anything  we  choose." 

Her  eyes  swept  this  strange  tract  of  country  back- 
ward and  forward.  She  saw  the  men  like  specks  in  the 
fields,  the  cows  grazing  in  the  pasture  like  toy  animals. 
Then  she  turned  and  looked  at  the  neat  row  of  stacks 
and  the  square  of  farm-buildings. 

"  I  am  trying  hard  to  realize  that  you  are  a  farmer 
and  that  this  is  your  life,"  she  said. 

He  swung  open  the  wooden  gate  of  the  churchyard, 
by  which  they  were  standing.  There  was  a  row  of 
graves  on  either  side  of  the  prim  path. 


THE  HILLMAN  35 

"  Suppose,"  he  suggested,  "  you  tell  me  about  your- 
self now  —  about  your  own  life." 

The  hills  parted  suddenly  as  she  stood  there  looking 
southward.  Through  the  chasm  she  seemed  to  see  very 
clearly  the  things  beyond.  Her  own  life,  her  own 
world,  spread  itself  out  —  a  world  of  easy  triumphs,  of 
throbbing  emotions  always  swiftly  ministered  to,  al- 
ways leaving  the  same  dull  sensation  of  discontent;  a 
world  in  which  the  pathways  were  broad  and  smooth, 
but  in  which  the  end  seemed  always  the  same;  a  world 
of  receding  beauties  and  mocking  desires.  The  faces  of 
her  friends  were  there  —  men  and  women,  brilliant,  her 
intellectual  compeers,  a  little  tired,  offering  always  the 
same  gifts,  the  same  homage. 

•  "  My  life,  and  the  world  in  which  I  live,  seem  far 
away  just  now,"  she  said  quietly.  "  I  think  that  it  is 
doing  me  good  to  have  a  rest  from  them.  Go  on  talk- 
ing to  me  about  yourself,  please." 

He  smiled.     He  was  just  a  little  disappointed. 

"  We  shall  very  soon  reach  the  end  of  all  that  I  have 
to  tell  you,"  he  remarked.  "  Still,  if  there  is  anything 
you  would  like  to  know  — " 

"  Who  were  these  men  and  women  who  have  lived  and 
died  here  ?  "  she  interrupted,  with  a  little  wave  of  her 
hand  toward  the  graves. 

"  All  our  own  people,"  he  told  her ;  "  laborers,  shep- 
herds, tenant-farmers,  domestic  servants.  Our  clergy- 
man comes  from  the  village  on  the  other  side  of  that  hill. 
He  rides  here  every  Sunday  on  a  pony  which  we  have  to 
provide  for  him." 

She  studied  the  names  upon  the  tombstones,  spelling 
them  out  slowly. 

"  The  married  people,"  he  went  on,  "  are  buried  on 
the  south  side;  the  single  ones  and  children  are  nearer 


36  THE  HILLMAN 

the  wall.  Tell  me,"  he  asked,  after  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion, "  are  you  married  or  single?  " 

She  gave  a  little  start.  The  abruptness  of  the  ques- 
tion, the  keen,  steadfast  gaze  of  his  compelling  eyes, 
seemed  for  a  moment  to  paralyze  both  her  nerves  and 
her  voice.  Again  the  hills  rolled  open,  but  this  time  it 
was  her  own  life  only  that  she  saw,  her  own  life,  and 
one  man's  face  which  she  seemed  to  see  looking  at  her 
from  some  immeasurable  distance,  waiting,  yet  drawing 
her  closer  toward  him,  closer  and  closer  till  their  hands 
met. 

She  was  terrified  at  this  unexpected  tumult  of  emo- 
tion. It  was  as  if  some  one  had  suddenly  drawn  away 
one  of  the  stones  from  the  foundation  of  her  life.  She 
found  herself  repeating  the  words  on  the  tombstone 
facing  her : 

"  And  of  Elizabeth,  for  sixty-one  years  the  faithful  wife 
and  helpmate  of  Ezra  Cumminps,  mother  of  his  children,  and 
his  partner  in  the  life  everlasting." 

Her  knees  began  to  shake.  There  was  a  momentary 
darkness  before  her  eyes.  She  felt  for  the  tombstone 
and  sat  down. 


IV 

The  churchyard  gate  was  opened  and  closed  noisily. 
They  both  glanced  up.  Stephen  Strangewey  was  com- 
ing slowly  toward  them  along  the  flinty  path.  Louise, 
suddenly  herself  again,  rose  briskly  to  her  feet. 

"  Here  comes  your  brother,"  she  said.  "  I  wish  he 
wouldn't  glower  at  me  so !  I  really  am  not  such  a  ter- 
rible person  as  he  seems  to  think." 

John  muttered  a  word  or  two  of  polite  but  uncon- 
vincing protest.  They  stood  together  awaiting  his  ap- 
proach. Stephen  had  apparently  lost  none  of  his 
dourness  of  the  previous  night.  He  was  dressed  in 
gray  homespun,  with  knickerbockers  and  stockings  of 
great  thickness.  He  wore  a  flannel  shirt  and  collar 
and  a  black  wisp  of  a  tie.  Underneath  his  battered 
felt  hat  his  weather-beaten  face  seemed  longer  and 
grimmer  than  ever,  his  mouth  more  uncompromising. 
As  he  looked  toward  Louise,  there  was  no  mistaking  the 
slow  dislike  in  his  steely  eyes. 

"  Your  chauffeur,  madam,  has  just  returned,"  he 
announced.  "  He  sent  word  that  he  will  be  ready  to 
start  at  one  o'clock." 

Louise,  inspired  to  battle  by  the  almost  provocative 
hostility  of  her  elder  host,  smiled  sweetly  upon  him. 

"  You  can't  imagine  how  sorry  I  am  to  hear  it,"  she 
said.  "  I  don't  know  when,  in  the  whole  course  of  my 
life,  I  have  met  with  such  a  delightful  adventure  or 
spent  such  a  perfect  morning ! " 


38  THE  HILLMAN 

Stephen  looked  at  her  with  level  disapproving  eyes  — 
at  her  slender  form  in  its  perfectly  fitting  tailored 
gown ;  at  her  patent  shoes,  so  obviously  unsuitable  for 
her  surroundings,  and  at  the  faint  vision  of  silk  stock- 
ings. 

"  If  I  might  say  so  without  appearing  inhospitable,"" 
he  remarked,  with  faint  sarcasm,  "  this  would  seem  to 
be  the  fitting  moment  for  your  departure.  A  closer  ex- 
amination of  our  rough  life  up  here  might  alter  your 
[views." 

She  turned  toward  John,  and  caught  the  deprecating 
glance  which  flashed  from  him  to  Stephen. 

**  Your  brother  is  making  fun  of  me,"  she  declared. 
"  He  looks  at  me  and  judges  me  just  as  I  believe  he 
would  judge  most  people  —  sternly  and  without  mercy. 
After  all,  you  know,  even  though  I  am  a  daughter  of  the 
cities,  there  is  another  point  of  view  —  ours.  Can  you 
not  believe  that  the  call  which  prompts  men  and  women 
to  do  the  things  in  life  which  are  really  worth  while  is 
heard  as  often  amid  the  hubbub  of  the  city  as  in  the 
solitude  of  these  austere  hills  ?  " 

"  The  question  is  a  bootless  one,"  Stephen  answered 
firmly.  "  The  city  calls  to  its  own,  as  the  country 
holds  its  children,  and  both  do  best  in  their  own  en- 
vironment. Like  to  like,  and  each  bird  to  his  own  nest. 
You  would  be  as  much  out  of  place  here  with  us,  madam, 
as  my  brother  and  I  on  the  pavements  of  your  city." 

"  You  may  be  right,"  she  admitted,  "  yet  you  dis- 
miss one  of  the  greatest  questions  in  life  with  a  single 
turn  of  your  tongue.  It  is  given  to  no  one  to  be  in- 
fallible. It  is  even  possible  that  you  may  be  wrong." 

"  It  is  possible,"  Stephen  agreed  grimly. 

"  The  things  in  life  which  are  worth  while,"  she  con- 
tinued, looking  down  into  the  valley,  "  are  common  to 


THE  HILLMAN  39 

all.  They  do  not  consist  of  one  thing  for  one  man, 
another  for  another.  To  whom  comes  the  greater 
share  of  them  —  the  dweller  in  the  city,  or  you  in  your 
primitive  and  patriarchal  life?  You  rest  your  brains, 
you  make  the  seasons  feed  you,  you  work  enough  to 
keep  your  muscles  firm,  and  nature  does  the  rest.  She 
brings  the  food  to  your  doors,  and  when  your  harvest 
is  over  your  work  is  done.  There  are  possibilities  of 
rust  here,  Mr.  Strangewey  !  " 

Stephen's  smile  was  almost  disdainful. 

"  Madam,"  he  declared,  "  you  have  six  or  seven  mil- 
lion people  in  London.  How  many  of  them  live  by 
really  creative  and  honorable  work?  How  many  are 
there  of  polyglot  race  —  Hebrews,  Germans,  foreigners 
of  every  type,  preying  upon  one  another,  making  false 
incomes  which  exist  only  on  paper,  living  in  false  lux- 
ury, tasting  false  joys?  The  sign-post  of  our  lives 
must  be  our  personal  inclinations.  Our  inclinations  — 
my  brother's  inclinations  and  mine  —  lead  us,  as  they 
have  led  my  people  for  hundreds  of  years,  to  seek  the 
cleaner  things  in  life  and  the  simpler  forms  of  happi- 
ness. If  I  do  not  have  the  pleasure,  madam,  of  seeing 
you  again,  permit  me  to  wish  you  farewell." 

He  turned  and  walked  away.  Louise  watched  him 
with  very  real  interest. 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  said  to  John,  *'  there  is  some- 
thing which  I  can  only  describe  as  biblical  about  your 
brother,  something  a  little  like  the  prophets  of  the  Old 
Testament,  in  the  way  he  sees  only  one  issue  and  clings 
to  it.  Are  you,  too,  of  his  way  of  thinking?  " 

"  Up  to  a  certain  point,  I  believe  I  am,"  he  confessed. 
"  I  do  not  think  I  could  ever  have  lived  in  the  city.  I 
do  not  think  I  could  ever  have  been  happy  in  any  of  the 
professions." 


40  THE  HILLMAN 

"  Certainly  I  could  not  imagine  you  as  a  stock-broker 
or  a  lawyer.  I  feel  it  hard  to  realize  you  in  any  of  the 
ordinary  walks  of  life.  Still,  you  know>  the  greatest 
question  of  all  remains  unanswered.  Are  you  content 
just  to  live  and  flourish  and  die?  Are  there  no  com- 
pelling obligations  with  which  one  is  born?  Do  you 
never  feel  cramped  —  in  your  mind,  I  mean  ?  —  feel 
that  you  want  to  push  your  way  through  the  clouds 
into  some  other  life  ?  " 

"  I  feel  nearer  the  clouds  here,"  he  answered  simply. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  sure  of  content  —  that  is  to  say, 
if  you  can  keep  free  from  doubts.  Still,  there  is  the 
fighting  instinct,  you  know;  the  craving  for  action. 
Don't  you  feel  that  sometimes?  " 

"  Perhaps,"  he  admitted. 

They  were  leaving  the  churchyard  now.  She  paused 
abruptly,  pointing  to  a  single  grave  in  a  part  of  the 
churchyard  which  seemed  detached  from  the  rest. 

"  Whose  grave  is  that?  "  she  inquired. 

He  hesitated. 

"  It  is  the  grave  of  a  young  girl,"  he  told  her  quietly. 

"  But  why  is  she  buried  so  far  off,  and  all  alone?" 
Louise  persisted. 

"  She  was  the  daughter  of  one  of  our  shepherds,"  he 
replied.  "  She  went  into  service  at  Carlisle,  and 
ijeturned  here  with  a  child.  They  are  both  buried 
there." 

"  Because  of  that  her  grave  is  apart  from  the 
others?" 

"  Yes,"  he  answered.  "  It  is  very  seldom,  I  am  glad 
to  say,  that  anything  of  the  sort  happens  among  us." 

For  the  second  time  that  morning  Louise  was  con- 
scious of  an  unexpected  upheaval  of  emotion.  She  felt 
that  the  sunshine  had  gone,  that  the  whole  sweetness  of 


THE  HILLMAN  41 

the  place  had  suddenly  passed  away.     The  charm  of 
its  simple  austerity  had  perished. 

"  And  I  thought  I  had  found  paradise ! "  she  cried. 

She  moved  quickly  from  John  Strangewey's  side. 
Before  he  could  realize  her  intention,  she  had  stepped 
over  the  low  dividing  wall  and  was  on  her  knees  by  the 
side  of  the  plain,  neglected  grave.  She  tore  out  the 
spray  of  apple-blossom  which  she  had  thrust  into  the 
bosom  of  her  gown,  and  placed  it  reverently  at  the  head 
of  the  little  mound.  For  a  moment  her  eyes  drooped 
and  her  lips  moved  —  she  herself  scarcely  knew  whether 
it  was  in  prayer.  Then  she  turned  and  came  slowly 
back  to  her  companion. 

-  Something  had  gone,  too,  from  his  charm.  She  saw 
in  him  now  nothing  but  the  coming  dourness  of  his 
brother.  Her  heart  was  still  heavy.  She  shivered  a 
little. 

"  Come,"  she  said,  "  let  us  go  back !  " 

They  commenced  the  steep  descent  in  silence.  Every 
now  and  then  John  held  his  companion  by  the  arm  to 
steady  her  somewhat  uncertain  footsteps.  It  was  he 
at  last  who  spoke. 

"  Will  you  tell  me,  please,  what  is  the  matter  with 
you,  and  why  you  placed  that  sprig  of  apple-blossom 
where  you  did?" 

His  tone  woke  her  from  her  lethargy.  She  was  a 
little  surprised  at  its  poignant,  almost  challenging  note. 

"  Certainly,"  she  replied.  "  I  placed  it  there  as  a 
woman's  protest  against  the  injustice  of  that  isola- 
tion." 

"  I  deny  that  it  is  unjust." 

She  turned  around  and  waved  her  hand  toward  the 
little  gray  building. 

"  The   Savior   to   whom   your    church   is   dedicated 


42  THE  HILLMAN 

thought  otherwise,"  she  reminded  him.  "  Do  you  play 
at  being  lords  paramount  here  over  the  souls  and  bodieg 
of  jour  serfs?  " 

"  You  judge  without  knowledge  of  the  facts,"  he  as- 
sured her  calmly.  "  The  girl  could  have  lived  here 
happily  and  been  married  to  a  respectable  young  man. 
She  chose,  instead,  a  wandering  life.  She  chose,  fur- 
ther, to  make  it  a  disreputable  one.  She  broke  her 
mother's  heart  and  soured  her  father's  latter  years. 
She  brought  into  the  world  a  nameless  child." 

Louise's  footsteps  slackened. 

"  You  men,"  she  sighed,  "  are  all  alike !  You  judge 
only  by  what  happens.  You  never  look  inside.  That 
is  why  your  justice  is  so  different  from  a  woman's.  All 
that  you  have  told  me  is  very  pitiful,  but  there  is  an- 
other view  of  the  case  which  you  should  consider.  Let 
us  sit  down  upon  this  boulder  for  a  few  moments. 
There  is  something  that  I  should  like  to  say  to  you  be- 
fore I  go." 

They  sat  upon  a  ledge  of  rock.  Below  them  was  the 
house,  with  its  walled  garden  and  the  blossom-laden 
orchard.  Beyond  stretched  the  moorland,  brilliant 
with  patches  of  yellow  gorse,  and  the  hills,  blue  and 
melting  in  the  morning  sunlight. 

"  Don't  you  men  sometimes  realize,"  she  continued 
earnestly,  "  the  many,  many  guises  in  which  tempta- 
tion may  come  to  a  woman,  especially  to  the  young  girl 
so  far  from  home?  She  may  be  very  lonely,  and  she 
may  care ;  and  if  she  cares,  it  is  so  hard  to  refuse  the 
man  she  loves.  The  very  sweetness,  the  very  generosity 
of  a  woman's  nature  prompts  her  to  give,  give,  give 
all  the  time.  There  are  other  women,  similarly  cir- 
cumstanced, who  think  only  of  themselves,  of  their  own 
safety  and  happiness,  and  they  escape  the  danger ;  but 


THE  HILLMAN  43 

are  they  to  be  praised  and  respected,  while  she  that 
yields  is  condemned  and  cast  out?  I  feel  that  you  are 
not  going  to  agree  with  me,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  argue 
with  you;  but  what  I  so  passionately  object  to  is  the 
sweeping  judgment  you  make  —  the  sheep  on  one  side 
and  the  goats  on  the  other.  That  is  how  man  judges ; 
God  looks  further.  Every  case  is  different.  The  law 
by  which  one  should  be  judged  may  be  poor  justice  for 
another." 

She  glanced  at  him  almost  appealingly,  but  there  was 
no  sign  of  yielding  in  his  face. 

"  Laws,"  he  reminded  her,  "  are  made  for  the  benefit 
of  the  whole  human  race.  Sometimes  an  individual 
may  suffer  for  the  benefit  of  others.  That  is  inevi- 
table." 

"  And  so  let  the  subject  pass,"  she  concluded,  "  but 
it  saddens  me  to  think  that  one  of  the  great  sorrows  of 
the  world  should  be  there  like  a  monument  to  spoil  the 
wonder  of  this  morning.  Now  I  am  going  to  ask  you  a 
question.  Are  you  the  John  Strangewey  who  has  re- 
cently had  a  fortune  left  to  him?  " 

He  nodded. 

"  You  read  about  it  in  the  newspapers,  I  suppose," 
he  said.  "  Part  of  the  story  isn't  true.  It  was  stated 
that  I  had  never  seen  my  Australian  uncle,  but  as  a 
matter  of  fact  he  has  been  over  here  three  or  four  times. 
It  was  he  who  paid  for  my  education  at  Harrow  and 
Oxford." 

"  What  did  your  brother  say  to  that?  " 

*'  He  opposed  it,"  John  confessed,  *'  and  he  hated  my 
uncle.  He  detests  the  thought  of  any  one  of  us  going 
out  of  sight  of  our  own  hills.  My  uncle  had  the  wander- 
fever." 

"And  you?"  she  asked  suddenly. 


44  THE  HILLMAN 

"  I  have  none  of  it,"  he  asserted. 

A  very  faint  smile  played  about  her  lips. 

"  Perhaps  not  before,"  she  murmured ;  "  but  now  ?  " 

'*  Do  you  mean  because  I  have  inherited  the  money?  " 

She  leaned  a  little  toward  him.  Her  smile  now  was 
more  evident,  and  there  was  something  in  her  eyes  which 
was  almost  like  a  challenge. 

"  Naturally!" 

"  What  difference  does  my  money  make  ? "  he  de- 
manded. 

"  Don't  you  realize  the  increase  of  your  power  as  a 
human  being?"  she  replied.  "Don't  you  realize  the 
larger  possibilities  of  the  life  that  is  open  to  you?  You 
can  move,  if  you  will,  in  the  big  world.  You  can  take 
your  place  in  any  society  you  choose,  meet  interesting 
people  who  have  done  things,  learn  everything  that  is 
new,  do  everything  that  is  worth  doing  in  life.  You  can 
travel  to  the  remote  countries  of  the  globe.  You  can 
become  a  politician,  a  philanthropist,  or  a  sportsman. 
You  can  follow  your  tastes  wherever  they  lead  you, 
and  —  perhaps  this  is  the  most  important  thing  of  all 
—  you  can  do  everything  upon  a  splendid  scale." 

He  smiled  down  at  her. 

"  That  all  sounds  very  nice,"  he  admitted,  "  but  sup- 
posing that  I  have  no  taste  in  any  of  the  directions  you 
have  mentioned?  Supposing  my  life  here  satisfies  me? 
Supposing  I  find  all  that  I  expect  to  find  in  life  here  on 
my  own  land,  among  my  own  hills?  What  then?  " 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  curiosity  which  was  almost 
passionate.  Her  lips  were  parted,  her  senses  strained. 

"  It  is  not  possible,"  she  exclaimed,  "  that  you  can 
mean  it ! " 

"  But  why  not  ?  "  he  protested.  "  I  have  not  the 
tortuous  brain  of  the  modern  politician.  I  hate  cities 


THE  HILLMAN  45 

—  the  smell  of  them,  the  atmosphere  of  them,  the  life 
in  them.  The  desire  for  travel  is  only  half  born  in  me. 
That  may  come  —  I  cannot  tell.  I  love  the  daily  work 
here ;  I  am  fond  of  horses  and  dogs.  I  know  every  yard 
of  land  we  own,  and  I  know  what  it  will  produce.  It 
interests  me  to  try  experiments  —  new  crops,  a  new  dis- 
tribution of  crops,  new  machinery  sometimes,  new 
methods  of  fertilizing.  I  love  to  watch  the  seasons 
come  and  reign  and  pass.  I  love  to  feel  the  wind  and 
the  sun,  and  even  the  rain.  All  these  things  have  be- 
come a  sort  of  appetite  to  me.  I  am  afraid,"  he  wound 
up  a  little  lamely,  "  that  this  is  all  very  badly  ex- 
pressed, but  the  whole  truth  of  it  is,  you  see,  that  I  am 
a  man  of  simple  and  inherited  tastes.  I  feel  that  my 
life  is  here,  and  I  live  it  here  and  I  love  it.  Why  should 
I  go  out  like  a  Don  Quixote  and  search  for  vague  ad- 
ventures ?  " 

"Because  you  are  a  man!"  she  answered  swiftly. 
"  You  have  a  brain  and  a  soul  too  big  for  your  life  here. 
You  eat  and  drink,  and  physically  you  flourish,  but  part 
of  you  sleeps  because  it  is  shut  away  from  the  world 
of  real  things.  Don't  you  sometimes  feel  it  in  your 
very  heart  that  life,  as  we  were  meant  to  live  it,  can  only 
be  lived  among  your  fellow  men?  " 

He  looked  upward,  over  his  shoulder,  at  the  little 
cluster  of  farm-buildings  and  cottages,  and  the  gray 
stone  church. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  he  declared  simply,  "  that  the  man 
who  tries  to  live  more  than  one  life  fails  in  both.  There 
is  a  little  cycle  of  life  here,  among  our  thirty  or  forty 
souls,  which  revolves  around  my  brother  and  myself. 
You  would  think  it  stupid  and  humdrum,  because  the 
people  are  peasants;  but  I  am  not  sure  that  you  are 
right.  The  elementary  things,  you  know,  are  the  great- 


46  THE  HILLMAN 

est,  and  those  we  have.  Our  young  people  fall  in  love 
and  marry.  The  joy  of  birth  comes  to  our  mothers, 
and  the  tragedy  of  death  looms  over  us  all.  Some  go 
out  into  the  world,  some  choose  to  remain  here.  A 
passer-by  may  glance  upward  from  the  road  at  our 
little  hamlet,  and  wonder  what  can  ever  happen  in  such 
an  out-of-the-way  corner.  I  think  the  answer  is  just 
what  I  have  told  you.  Love  and  marriage,  birth  and 
death  happen.  These  things  make  life." 

Her  curiosity  now  had  become  merged  in  an  im- 
mense interest.  She  laid  her  fingers  lightly  upon  his 
arm. 

"  You  speak  for  your  people,"  she  said.  "  That  is 
well.  I  can  understand  their  simple  lives  being  as  ab- 
sorbing to  them  as  ours  are  to  us.  I  can  imagine  how, 
here  among  your  hills,  you  can  watch  as  a  spectator  a 
cycle  of  life  which  contains,  as  you  have  pointed  out, 
every  element  of  tragedy  and  happiness.  But  you 
yourself?  " 

"  I  am  one  of  them,"  he  answered,  "  a  necessary  part 
of  them." 

"  How  you  deceive  yourself !  I  am  sure  you  are  hon- 
est, I  am  sure  you  believe  what  you  say,  but  will  you  re- 
member what  I  am  going  to  tell  you?  The  time  will 
come,  before  very  long,  when  you  will  feel  doubts." 

"Doubts  about  what?" 

She  smiled  enigmatically. 

"  Oh,  they  will  assert  themselves,"  she  assured  him, 
"  and  you  will  recognize  them  when  they  come.  Some- 
thing will  whisper  to  you  in  your  heart  that  after  all 
you  are  not  of  the  same  clay  as  these  simple  folk  —  that 
there  is  a  different  mission  in  the  world  for  a  man  like 
you  than  to  play  the  part  of  feudal  lord  over  a  few 
peasants.  Sooner  or  later  you  will  come  out  into  the 


THE  HILLMAN  47 

world;  and  the  sooner  the  better,  I  think,  Mr.  John 
Strangewey,  or  you  will  grow  like  your  brother  here 
among  your  granite  hills." 

He  moved  a  little  uneasily.  All  the  time  she  was 
watching  him.  It  seemed  to  her  that  she  could  read  the 
thoughts  which  were  stirring  in  his  brain. 

"  You  would  like  to  say,  wouldn't  you,"  she  went  on, 
"that  your  brother's  is  a  useful  and  an  upright  life? 
So  it  may  be,  but  it  is  not  wide  enough  or  great  enough. 
No  one  should  be  content  with  the  things  which  he  can 
reach.  He  should  climb  a  little  higher,  and  pluck  the 
riper  fruit.  Some  day  you  will  feel  the  desire  to  climb. 
Something  will  come  to  you  —  in  the  night,  perhaps,  or 
on  the  bosom  of  that  wind  you  love  so  much.  It  may 
be  a  call  of  music,  or  it  may  be  a  more  martial  note. 
Promise  me,  will  you,  that  when  you  feel  the  impulse 
you  won't  use  all  that  obstinate  will-power  of  yours  to 
crush  it?  You  will  destroy  the  best  part  of  yourself,  if 
you  do.  You  will  give  it  a  chance?  Promise !  " 

She  held  out  her  hand  with  a  little  impulsive  gesture. 
He  took  it  in  his  own,  and  held  it  steadfastly. 

"  I  will  remember,"  he  promised. 

Along  the  narrow  streak  of  road,  from  the  south- 
ward, they  both  watched  the  rapid  approach  of  a  large 
motor-car.  There  were  two  servants  upon  the  front 
seat  and  one  passenger  —  a  man  —  inside.  It  swung 
into  the  level  stretch  beneath  them,  a  fantasy  of  gray 
and  silver  in  the  reflected  sunshine. 

Louise  had  been  leaning  forward,  her  head  supported 
upon  her  hands.  As  the  car  slackened  speed,  she  rose 
very  slowly  to  her  feet. 

"  The  chariot  of  deliverance ! "  she  murmured. 

"  It  is  the  Prince  of  Seyre,"  John  remarked,  gazing 
down  with  a  slight  frown  upon  his  forehead. 


48  THE  HILLMAN 

She  nodded.  They  had  started  the  descent,  and  she 
was  walking  in  very  leisurely  fashion. 

"  The  prince  is  a  great  friend  of  mine,"  she  said.  "  I 
bad  promised  to  spend  last  night,  or,  at  any  rate,  some 
portion  of  the  evening,  at  Raynham  Castle  on  my  way 
to  London." 

He  summoned  up  courage  to  ask  her  the  question 
which  had  been  on  his  lips  more  than  once. 

"  As  your  stay  with  us  is  so  nearly  over,  won't  you 
abandon  your  incognito  ?  " 

"  In  the  absence  of  your  brother,"  she  answered,  '*  I 
will  risk  it.  My  name  is  Louise  Maurel." 

"Louise  Maurel,  the  actress?"  he  repeated  wonder- 


"  I  am  she,"  Louise  confessed.  "  Would  your 
brother,"  she  added,  with  a  little  grimace,  "  feel  that  he 
had  given  me  a  night's  lodging  under  false  pretense?  " 

John  made  no  immediate  reply.  The  world  had 
turned  topsyturvy  with  him.  Louise  Maurel,  and  a 
gre&t  friend  of  the  Prince  of  Seyre!  He  walked  on 
mechanically  until  she  turned  and  looked  at  him. 

"Well?" 

"  I  am  sorry,"  he  declared  bluntly. 

"  Why?  "  she  asked,  a  little  startled  at  his  candor. 

**  I  am  sorry,  first  of  all,  that  you  are  a  friend  of  the 
Prince  of  Seyre." 

"  And  again  why  ?  " 

"  Because  of  his  reputation  in  these  parts." 

"  What  does  that  mean  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  am  not  a  scandalmonger,"  John  replied  dryly. 
**  I  speak  only  of  what  I  know.  His  estates  near  here 
Are  systematically  neglected.  He  is  the  worst  land- 
lord in  the  country,  and  the  most  unscrupulous.  His 
tenants,  both  here  and  in  Westmoreland,  have  to  work 


THE  HILLMAN  49. 

themselves  to  death  to  provide  him  with  the  means  of 
living  a  disreputable  life." 

*'  Are  you  not  forgetting  that  the  Prince  of  Seyre  is. 
a  friend  of  mine?  "  she  asked  stiffly. 

"  I  forget  nothing,"  he  answered.  "  You  see,  up  here 
we  have  not  learned  the  art  of  evading  the  truth." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  So  much  foi  the  Prince  of  Seyre,  then.  And  now, 
why  your  dislike  of  my  profession  ?  " 

"  That  is  another  matter,"  he  confessed.  "  You 
come  from  a  world  of  which  I  know  nothing.  All  I  can 
say  is  that  I  would  rather  think  of  you  —  as  something 
different." 

She  laughed  at  his  somber  face  and  patted  his  arm. 
lightly. 

"  Big  man  of  the  hills,"  she  said,  "  when  you  come 
down  from  your  frozen  heights  to  look  for  the  flower*, 
I  shall  try  to  make  you  see  things  differently !  '* 


The  prince,  who  had  just  been  joined  by  Stepheny 
had  descended  from  his  car  and  was  waiting  in  the  road 
when  Louise  and  John  approached.  He  came  a  few 
paces  forward  to  meet  her,  and  held  out  both  his  hands. 

*'  My  dear  wandering  guest ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  So  I 
have  found  you  at  last !  What  shall  I  say  to  this  mis- 
hap which  has  robbed  me  of  so  many  hours  of  your 
visit?  I  am  too  happy,  though,  to  know  that  you  have 
suffered  no  personal  inconvenience." 

"  Thanks  to  the  great  kindness  of  my  hosts,"  Louise 
replied,  smiling  a  little  mockingly  at  Stephen,  "  I  have 
been  completely  spoiled  here,  prince,  and  I  can  only 
regard  my  accident  as  a  delightful  little  interlude." 

The  prince  bowed,  and  half  held  out  his  hand  to 
Stephen.  The  latter,  however  appeared  not  to  notice 
the  movement. 

"  I  shall  always  remember  with  gratitude,"  the  prince 
declared,  "  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Strangewey  and  his 
brother  to  my  lost  guest.  I  fear,"  he  went  on  regret- 
fully, "  that  I  do  not  seem  very  neighborly.  I  am  not 
often  at  Raynham  Castle,  except  in  August  and  Septem- 
ber. I  find  your  northern  air  somewhat  too  severe  for 
me." 

"  Your  tenants,  prince,"  Stephen  remarked  calmly, 
'*  would  like  to  see  a  little  more  of  you." 

The  prince  shrugged  his  shoulders.  He  was  a  man 
of  medium  height,  slender,  with  a  long  and  almost  color- 
less face.  He  carried  himself  with  the  good-humored 


THE  HILLMAN  51 v 

air  of  the  man  of  the  world  among  strange  surroundings 
toward  which  he  desired  to  express  his  toleration.  His 
clothes  and  voice  were  perfectly  English,  although  the 
latter  was  unusually  slow  and  soft.  At  first  sight  there 
was  no  apparent  evidence  of  his  foreign  birth.  He 
turned  once  more  toward  Stephen. 

"  My  agent,  Mr.  Simon,  is  a  very  excellent  man,  and 
I  have  every  confidence  in  his  discretion.  My  tenants 
here  could  scarcely  feel  toward  me  as  they  might  have 
done  if  Raynham  had  come  into  my  possession  in  the 
direct  line.  However,  this  year,  as  it  happens,  I  have 
made  up  my  mind  to  spend  more  time  here,  My  keep- 
ers tell  me  that  after  four  bad  seasons  the  prospects 
for  grouse  on  my  higher  moors  are  excellent.  I  shall 
hope,"  he  added,  turning  to  John,  "  to  have  you  join 
us  often.  I  must  confess  that  the  only  time  I  had  ever 
heard  your  name,  before  the  newspapers  advertised 
your  recent  good  fortune,  was  in  connection  with  shoot- 
ing. They  tell  me  that  you  are  the  best  shot  and  the 
finest  horseman  in  Cumberland." 

"  You  were  probably  told  that  at  Raynham,"  John, 
remarked.  "  Our  people  always  exaggerate  the  prow- 
ess of  their  own  folk,  and  my  brother  and  I  are  natives." 

"  I  trust,"  the  prince  concluded,  "  that  you  will  give 
me  the  opportunity  of  judging  for  myself.  And  now, 
dear  lady,"  he  went  on,  turning  to  Louise,  "  I  am  loath 
to  lose  another  minute  of  my  promised  visit.  I  have 
taken  the  liberty  of  telling  your  maid  to  place  your 
wraps  in  my  car.  We  can  reach  Raynham  in  time  for  a 
late  lunch.  Your  own  car  can  follow  us  and  bring  your 
maid." 

For  a  moment  Louise  did  not  reply.  The  prince  had 
moved  a  few  steps  away,  to  give  some  directions  to  his 
chauffeur,  and  he  saw  nothing  of  the  strange  look  of 


$2  THE  HILLMAN 

indecision  that  had  suddenly  crept  into  her  face.  Her 
eyebrows  were  contracted.  She  had  turned,  and  was 
gazing  up  the  precipitous  strip  of  moorland  toward  the 
gray-walled  church.  Then  she  glanced  at  John 
Strangewey,  and  her  eyes  seemed  filled  with  the  ques- 
tioning of  a  child.  It  was  as  if  she  had  abandoned  the 
role  of  mentor,  as  if  she  herself  were  seeking  for  guid- 
ance or  help. 

John's  unspoken  response  was  prompt  and  unmis- 
takable ;  and  she  smiled  ever  so  slightly.  She  no  longer 
thought  him  narrow  and  prejudiced,  an  unfair  judge 
of  things  beyond  Ijis  comprehension.  He  had  helped 
her  in  a  moment  of  trial.  An  idea  had  flashed  between 
them,  and  she  acted  upon  it  with  amazing  promptitude. 

tf  Alas,  prince,"  she  sighed,  as  he  turned  back  toward 
them,  "  I  am  so  sorry,  but  I  fear  that  this  little  accident 
must  change  all  my  plans !  As  you  know,  mine  was  to 
have  been  only  a  brief  stay  at  Raynham,  and  I  fear  now 
that  even  that  is  impossible." 

The  prince  drew  a  step  nearer.  Something  of  the 
calm  suavity  had  suddenly  gone  from  his  manner. 
When  he  spoke,  his  measured  words  were  full  of  appeal. 

"  But,  my  dear  friend,"  he  begged,  "  you  will  not  rob 
me  altogether  of  this  visit,  to  which  I  have  looked 
forward  so  eagerly?  It  was  to  receive  you  for  a  few 
hours  that  I  came  from  Paris  and  opened  Raynham 
Castle.  You  yourself  shall  decide  the  length  of  your 
stay,  and  a  special  train  shall  take  you  back  to  London 
the  moment  you  give  the  word.  In  that  way  you  will 
both  save  time  and  spare  me  —  one  of  the  greatest  dis- 
appointments of  my  life !  " 

She  shook  her  head,  slowly  and  very  decisively. 

'*  You  cannot  imagine  how  sorry  I  am,  prince,"  she 
said,  "  but  as  it  is  I  must  take  a  special  train  from  Ken- 


THE  HILLMAN  53 

dal,  if  there  is  not  one  starting  soon  after  I  reach  the 
station.  I  wish  to  reach  London  either  this  evening  or 
very  early  in  the  morning." 

The  prince  was  holding  himself  in  restraint  with  a 
visible  effort.  His  eyes  were  fixed  upon  Louise's  face, 
as  if  trying  to  read  her  thoughts. 

"Is  the  necessity  so  urgent?"  he  asked. 

*'  Judge  for  yourself,"  she  replied.  "  Henri  Graillot 
is  there,  waiting  for  me.  You  know  how  impatient  he 
is,  and  all  London  is  clamoring  for  his  play.  Night  to 
him  is  just  the  same  as  day.  I  shall  telegraph  from 
Kendal  the  hour  of  my  arrival." 

The  prince  sighed. 

"  I  think,"  he  said  quietly,  "  that  I  am  the  most  un- 
fortunate man  in  the  world!  At  least,  then,  you  will 
permit  me  to  drive  you  to  Kendal?  I  gather  from  your 
chauffeur  that  your  car,  although  temporarily  repaired, 
is  not  altogether  reliable." 

She  answered  him  only  after  a  slight  hesitation.  For 
some  reason  or  other,  his  proposition  did  not  seem 
wholly  welcome. 

"  That  will  be  very  kind  of  you,"  she  assented. 

"  If  we  start  at  once,"  the  prince  suggested,  "  we 
shall  catch  the  Scotch  mail." 

"You  will  surely  lunch  first? — and  you,  prince?" 
John  begged. 

She  laid  her  hand  upon  his  arm. 

"  My  friend,  no,"  she  replied.  *'  I  am  feverishly 
anxious  to  get  back  to  London.  Walk  with  me  to  the 
car.  I  will  wave  my  adieus  to  Peak  Hall  when  we  are 
up  among  the  hills." 

She  drew  him  on  a  few  paces  ahead. 

'*  I  am  going  back  to  London,"  she  continued,  lower- 
ing her  voice  a  little,  **  with  some  very  strange  impres- 


54  THE  HILLMAN 

sions  and  some  very  pleasant  memories.  I  feel  that 
your  life  here  is,  in  its  way,  very  beautiful,  and  yet  the 
contemplation  of  your  future  fills  me  with  an  immense 
curiosity.  I  have  not  talked  to  you  for  very  long,  Mr. 
Strangewey,  and  you  may  not  be  quite  the  sort  of  per- 
son I  think  you  are,  but  I  am  seldom  mistaken.  I  am 
an  artist,  you  see,  and  we  have  perceptions.  I  think 
that  even  here  the  time  will  come  when  the  great  unrest 
will  seize  you,  too,  in  its  toils.  Though  the  color  may 
not  fade  from  your  hills,  and  though  the  apple-blossom 
may  still  glorify  your  orchard,  and  your  flowers  bloom 
and  smell  as  sweetly,  and  your  winds  bring  you  the 
same  music,  I  think  that  the  time  will  come  when  the 
note  in  you  which  answers  to  these  things,  and  which 
gives  you  contentment,  will  fail  to  respond.  Then  I 
think  —  I  hope,  perhaps  —  that  we  may  meet." 

She  spoke  very  softly,  almost  under  her  breath,  and 
when  she  had  finished  there  seemed  everywhere  a  strange 
emptiness  of  sound.  The  panting  of  the  engine  from 
the  motor-car,  Stephen's  measured  words  as  he  walked 
with  his  uncongenial  companion,  seemed  to  come  to  John 
from  some  other  world. 

His  voice,  when  he  spoke,  sounded  a  little  harsh. 
Although  he  was  denying  it  fiercely  to  himself,  he  was 
filled  with  a  dim,  harrowing  consciousness  that  the 
struggle  had  already  begun.  Notwithstanding  the  un- 
realized joy  of  these  few  hours,  his  last  words  to  Louise 
were  almost  words  of  anger ;  his  last  look  from  beneath 
his  level,  close-drawn  eyebrows  was  almost  militant. 

"  I  hope,"  he  declared,  "  that  what  you  have  said  may 
not  be  true.  I  hope  fervently  that  the  time  may  never 
come  when  I  shall  feel  that  I  need  anything  more  in  life 
than  I  can  find  in  the  home  I  love,  in  the  work  which  is 
second  nature  to  me,  in  my  books  and  my  sports ! " 


THE  HILLMAN  55 

The  prince,  escaping  gracefully  from  a  companion 
who  remained  adamant  to  all  his  advances,  had 
maneuvered  his  way  to  their  side.  The  last  few  steps 
were  taken  together.  In  a  few  moments  they  were  in 
the  car  and  ready  to  start.  Stephen,  with  a  stiff  little 
bow,  had  already  departed.  Louise  leaned  out  from  her 
place  with  outstretched  hands. 

"  And  now  good-by,  dear  Mr.  Strangewey !  Your 
brother  would  not  let  me  mate  my  little  speech  to  him, 
so  you  must  accept  the  whole  of  my  thanks.  And," 
she  went  on,  the  corners  of  her  mouth  twitching  a  little, 
although  her  face  remained  perfectly  grave,  "  if  the 
time  should  come  when  the  need  of  reinvestments,  or 
of  some  new  machinery  for  your  farm,  brings  you  to 
London,  will  you  promise  that  you  will  come  and  see 
me?" 

"  I  will  promise  that  with  much  pleasure,"  John  an- 
swered. 

She  leaned  back  and  the  prince  took  her  place,  hold- 
ing out  his  hand. 

"  Mr.  Strangewey,  although  your  luck  has  been  bet- 
ter than  mine,  and  you  have  robbed  me  of  a  visit  to 
which  I  had  looked  forward  for  months,  I  bear  you  no 
ill-will.  I  trust  that  you  will  do  me  the  honor  of  shoot- 
ing with  me  before  long.  My  head  keeper  arranges  for 
the  local  guns,  and  I  shall  see  that  he  sends  you  a  list  of 
the  days  on  which  we  shall  shoot.  May  I  beg  that  you 
will  select  the  most  convenient  to  yourself?  If  you 
have  no  car  here,  it  will  give  me  additional  pleasure  to 
welcome  you  at  Raynham  as  my  guest." 

John,  struggling  against  an  instinctive  dislike  of 
which,  for  many  reasons,  he  was  a  little  ashamed,  mur- 
mured a  few  incoherent  words.  The  prince  leaned  back 
and  the  car  glided  away,  followed,  a  few  minutes  later, 


56  THE  HILLMAN 

by  Louise's  own  landaulet,  with  Aline  in  solitary  state 
inside. 

John  watched  the  little  procession  until  it  finally  dis- 
appeared from  sight;  then  he  turned  on  his  heel  and 
went  into  the  house.  Stephen,  who  had  just  filled  a 
pipe,  was  smoking  furiously  in  the  hall. 

"Have  they  gone?  "  he  demanded. 

John  nodded. 

"  They  are  racing  into  Kendal  to  catch  the  Scotch- 
man for  London." 

"  The  sooner  she  gets  there,  the  better,"  Stephen 
growled. 

John  raised  his  head.  The  light  of  battle  flashed  for 
a  moment  in  his  eyes. 

"  She  came  here  unbidden,"  he  said,  "  and  we  did  no 
more  than  our  bounden  duty  in  entertaining  her.  For 
the  rest,  what  is  there  that  you  can  say  against  her? 
Women  there  must  be  in  the  world.  Why  do  you  judge 
those  who  come  your  way  so  harshly  ?  " 

Stephen  withdrew  the  pipe  from  his  mouth  and  dealt 
the  black  oak  table  in  front  of  him  a  blow  with  his  great 
fist.  Even  John  himself  was  struck  with  the  sudden 
likeness  of  his  brother's  face  to  the  granite  rocks  which 
were  piled  around  their  home. 

"  I'll  answer  your  question,  John,"  he  said.  "  I'll 
tell  you  the  truth  as  I  see  it  and  as  I  know  it.  Women 
there  must  be  to  breed  men's  sons,  to  care  for  their 
households ;  even,  I  grant  you,  to  be  their  companions 
and  to  lighten  the  dark  days  when  sorrow  comes.  But 
she  isn't  that  sort.  She  is  as  far  removed  from  them  as 
our  mountain  road  is  from  the  scented  thoroughfares 
of  Bond  Street  or  the  Rue  de  la  Paix,  where  she  might 
take  her  daily  exercise.  I'll  tell  you  about  her,  John. 
She  is  one  of  those  who  have  sown  the  hatred  of  women 


THE  HILLMAN  57 

in  my  heart.  Do  you  know  what  I  call  them,  John? 
I  call  them  witch-women.  There's  something  of  the 
devil  in  their  blood.  They  call  themselves  artists. 
They  have  the  gift  of  turning  the  heads  and  spoiling  the 
lives  of  sober,  well-living  men,  till  they  make  them  dance 
to  their  bidding  along  the  ways  of  shame,  and  turn  their 
useful  lives  into  the  dotage  of  a  love-sick  boy.  They 
aren't  child-bearing  women,  that  sort!  They  don't 
want  to  take  their  proper  place  in  your  household  by 
your  side,  breed  sons  and  daughters  for  you,  sink  their 
own  lives  in  the  greater  duties  of  motherhood.  There's 
generally  a  drop  of  devilish  foreign  blood  in  their  veins, 
as  she  has.  Our  grandmother  had  it.  You  know  the 
result.  The  empty  frame  in  the  lumber-room  will  tell 
you." 

John,  half  angry,  half  staggered  by  his  brother's 
vehemence,  was  for  the  moment  a  little  confused. 

"  There  may  be  women  like  that,  Stephen,"  he  con- 
fessed. *'  I  am  not  denying  the  truth  of  much  that  you 
say.  But  what  right  have  you  to  class  her  among 
them?  What  do  you  know  of  her?  " 

"  It's  written  in  her  face,"  Stephen  answered  fiercely. 
*'  Women  like  her  breathe  it  from  their  lips  when  they 
speak,  just  as  it  shines  out  of  their  eyes  when  they  look 
at  you.  An  actress,  and  a  friend  of  the  Prince  of 
Seyre !  A  woman  who  thought  it  worth  her  while,  dur- 
ing her  few  hours'  stay  here — "  John  had  suddenly 
straightened  himself.  Stephen  clenched  his  teeth. 
"  Curse  it,  that's  enough !  "  he  said.  "  She's  gone,  any- 
way. Come,  let's  have  our  lunch ! " 


VI 

Once  more  that  long,  winding  stretch  of  mountain 
road  lay  empty  under  the  moonlight.  Three  months 
had  passed,  and  none  of  the  mystery  of  the  earlier  sea- 
son in  the  year  remained.  The  hills  had  lost  their 
canopy  of  soft,  gray  mist.  Nature  had  amplified  and 
emphasized  herself.  The  whole  outline  of  the  country 
was  marvelously  distinct.  The  more  distant  mountains, 
as  a  rule  blurred  and  uncertain  in  shape,  seemed  now  to 
pierce  with  their  jagged  summits  the  edge  of  the  star- 
filled  sky. 

Up  the  long  slope,  where  three  months  before  he  had 
ridden  to  find  himself  confronted  with  the  adventure  of 
his  life,  John  Strangewey  jogged  homeward  in  his  high 
dog-cart.  The  mare,  scenting  her  stable,  broke  into  a 
quick  trot  as  they  topped  the  long  rise.  Suddenly  she 
felt  a  hand  tighten  upon  her  reins.  She  looked  inquir- 
ingly around,  and  then  stood  patiently  awaiting  her 
master's  bidding. 

It  seemed  to  John  as  if  he  had  passed  from  the  partial 
abstraction  of  the  last  few  hours  into  absolute  and  en- 
tire forgetfulness  of  the  present.  He  could  see  the 
motor-car  drawn  up  by  the  side  of  the  road,  could  hear 
the  fretful  voice  of  the  maid,  and  the  soft,  pleasant 
words  of  greeting  from  the  woman  who  had  seemed  from 
the  first  as  if  she  were  very  far  removed  indeed  from  any 
of  the  small  annoyances  of  their  accident. 

"  I  have  broken  down.     Can  you  help  ?  " 

He  set  his  teeth.     The  poignancy  of  the  recollection 


THE  HILLMAN  59 

was  a  torture  to  him.  Word  by  word  he  lived  again 
through  that  brief  interview.  He  saw  her  descend  from 
the  car,  felt  the  touch  of  her  hand  on  his  arm,  saw  the 
flash  of  her  brown  eyes  as  she  drew  close  to  him  with 
that  pleasant  little  air  of  familiarity,  shared  by  no 
other  woman  he  had  ever  known. 

Then  the  little  scene  faded  away,  and  he  remembered 
the  tedious  present.  He  had  spent  two  dull  days  at  the 
house  of  a  neighboring  landowner,  playing  cricket  in 
the  daytime,  dancing  at  night  with  women  in  whom  he 
was  unable  to  feel  the  slightest  interest,  always  with 
that  far-away  feeling  in  his  heart,  struggling  hour  by 
hour  with  that  curious  restlessness  which  seemed  to  have 
taken  a  permanent  place  in  his  disposition.  He  was  on 
his  way  home  to  Peak  Hall.  He  knew  exactly  the  wel- 
come which  was  awaiting  him.  He  knew  exactly  the 
news  he  would  receive.  He  raised  his  whip  and  cracked 
it  viciously  in  the  air. 

Stephen  was  waiting  for  him,  as  he  had  expected,  in 
the  dining  room.  The  elder  Strangewey  was  seated  in 
his  accustomed  chair,  smoking  his  pipe  and  reading  the 
paper.  The  table  was  laid  for  a  meal,  which  Jennings 
was  preparing  to  serve. 

"  Back  again,  John?  "  his  brother  remarked,  looking 
at  him  fixedly  over  his  newspaper. 

John  picked  up  one  or  two  letters,  glanced  them  over, 
and  flung  them  down  upon  the  table.  He  had  examined 
every  envelope  for  the  last  few  months  with  the  same 
expectancy,  and  thrown  each  one  down  with  the  same 
throb  of  disappointment. 

"  As  you  see." 

"Had  a  good  time?" 

"  Not  very.  We  were  too  strong  for  them.  They 
came  without  a  bowler  at  all." 


60  THE  HILLMAN 

"  Did  you  get  a  good  knock  ?  " 

"  A  hundred  and  seven,"  John  replied.  "  It  was  just 
a  slog,  though.  Nothing  to  eat,  thank  you,  Jennings. 
You  can  clear  the  table  so  far  as  I  am  concerned.  I 
had  supper  with  the  Greys.  Have  they  finished  the 
barley-fields,  Stephen  ?  " 

"  All  in  at  eight  o'clock." 

There  was  a  brief  silence.  Then  Stephen  knocked 
the  ashes  from  his  pipe  and  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  John,"  he  asked,  "  why  did  you  pull  up  on  the  road 
there?" 

There  was  no  immediate  answer.  The  slightest  of 
frowns  formed  itself  upon  the  younger  man's  face. 

"  How  did  you  know  that  I  pulled  up  ?  " 

"I  was  sitting  with  the  window  open,  listening  for 
you.  I  came  outside  to  see  what  had  happened,  and 
I  saw  your  lights  standing  still." 

"  I  had  a  fancy  to  stop  for  a  moment,"  John  said ; 
"  nothing  more." 

"  You  aren't  letting  your  thoughts  dwell  upon  that 
woman  ?  " 

"  I  have  thought  about  her  sometimes,"  John  an- 
swered, almost  defiantly.  "  What's  the  harm?  I'm 
still  here,  am  I  not?  " 

Stephen  crossed  the  room.  From  the  drawer  of  the 
old  mahogany  sideboard  he  produced  an  illustrated 
paper.  He  turned  back  the  frontispiece  fiercely  and 
held  it  up. 

"  Do  you  see  that,  John  ?  " 

*'  I've  seen  it  already." 

Stephen  threw  the  paper  upon  the  table. 

"  She's  going  to  act  in  another  of  those  confounded 
French  plays,"  he  said ;  "  translations  with  all  the  wit 
taken  out  and  all  the  vulgarity  left  in." 


THE  HILLMAN  61 

"  We  know  nothing  of  her  art,"  John  declared  coldly. 
"  We  shouldn't  understand  it,  even  if  we  saw  her  act. 
Therefore,  it  isn't  right  for  us  to  judge  her.  The 
world  has  found  her  a  great  actress.  She  is  not  respon- 
sible for  the  plays  she  acts  in." 

Stephen  turned  away  and  lit  his  pipe  anew.  He 
smoked  for  a  minute  or  two  furiously.  His  thick  eye- 
brows came  closer  and  closer  together.  He  seemed  to 
be  turning  some  thought  over  in  his  mind. 

*'  John,"  he  asked,  "  is  it  this  cursed  money  that  is 
making  you  restless  ?  " 

"I  never  think  of  it  except  when  some  one  comes 
begging.  I  promised  a  thousand  pounds  to  the  in- 
firmary to-day." 

"  Then  what's  wrong  with  you?  " 

John  stretched  himself  out,  a  splendid  figure  of 
healthy  manhood.  His  cheeks  were  sun-tanned,  his  eyes 
clear  and  bright. 

"The  matter?  There's  nothing  on  earth  the  mat- 
ter with  me,"  he  declared. 

'*  It  isn't  your  health  I  mean.  There  are  other 
things,  as  you  well  know.  You  do  your  day's  work  and 
you  take  your  pleasure,  and  you  go  through  both  as  if 
your  feet  were  on  a  treadmill." 

"  Your  fancy,  Stephen !  " 

"  God  grant  it !  I've  had  an  unwelcome  visitor  in 
your  absence." 

John  turned  swiftly  around. 

"A  visitor?"  he  repeated.     "Who  was  it?*' 

Stephen  glowered  at  him  for  a  moment 

"  It  was  the  prince,"  he  said ;  "  the  Prince  of  Seyre, 
as  he  calls  himself,  though  he  has  the  right  to  style  him- 
self Master  of  Raynham-  It's  only  his  foreign  blood 
which  makes  him  choose  what  I  regard  as  the  lesser  title. 


62  THE  HILLMAN 

Yes,  he  called  to  ask  you  to  shoot  and  stay  at  the  castle, 
if  you  would,  from  the  16th  to  the  20th  of  next  month." 

"  What  answer  did  you  give  him?  " 

"  I  told  him  that  you  were  your  own  master.  [You 
must  send  word  to-morrow." 

"  He  did  not  mention  the  names  of  any  of  his  other 
guests,  I  suppose?  " 

"  He  mentioned  no  names  at  all." 

John  was  silent  for  a  moment.  A  bewildering 
thought  had  taken  hold  of  him.  Supposing  she  were  to 
be  there! 

Stephen,  watching  him,  read  his  thoughts,  and  for  a 
moment  lost  control  of  himself. 

"  Were  you  thinking  about  that  woman  ?  "  he  asked 
sternly. 

"What  woman?" 

"  The  woman  whom  we  sheltered  here,  the  woman 
whose  shameless  picture  is  on  the  cover  of  that  book." 

John  swung  round  on  his  heel. 

"  Stop  that,  Stephen ! "  he  said  menacingly. 

"Why  should  I?"  the  older  man  retorted.  "Take 
up  that  paper,  if  you  want  to  read  a  sketch  of  the  life 
of  Louise  Maurel.  See  the  play  she  made  her  name  in 
•— *  La  Gioconda  ' ! " 

"What  about  it?" 

Stephen  held  the  paper  out  to  his  brother.  John 
read  a  few  lines  and  dashed  it  into  a  corner  of  the 
room. 

"  There's  this  much  about  it,  John,"  Stephen  con- 
tinued. "  The  woman  played  that  part  night  after 
night  —  played  it  to  the  life,  mind  you.  She  made  her 
reputation  in  it.  That's  the  woman  we  unknowingly 
let  sleep  beneath  this  roof!  The  barn  is  the  place  for 
her  and  her  sort ! " 


THE  HILLMAN  63 

John's  clenched  fists  were  held  firmly  to  his  sides. 
His  eyes  were  blazing. 

"  That's  enough,  Stephen !  "  he  cried. 

"  No,  it's  not  enough !  "  was  the  fierce  reply.  "  Th« 
truth's  been  burning  in  my  heart  long  enough.  It's 
better  out.  You  want  to  find  her  a  guest  at  Raynham 
Castle,  do  you?  —  Raynham  Castle,  where  never  a  de- 
cent woman  crosses  the  threshold!  If  she  goes  there, 
she  goes  as  his  mistress.  Well  ?  " 

An  anger  that  was  almost  paralyzing,  a  sense  of  the 
utter  impotence  of  words,  drove  John  in  silence  from 
the  room.  He  left  the  house  by  the  back  door,  passed 
quickly  through  the  orchard,  where  the  tangled  moon- 
light lay  upon  the  ground  in  strange,  fantastic 
shadows;  across  the  narrow  strip  of  field,  a  field  now 
of  golden  stubble ;  up  the  rough  ascent,  across  the  road, 
and  higher  still  up  the  hill  which  looked  down  upon  the 
farm-buildings  and  the  churchyard. 

He  sat  grimly  down  upon  a  great  boulder,  filled  with 
a  hateful  sense  of  unwreaked  passion,  yet  with  a  queer 
thankfulness  in  his  heart  that  he  had  escaped  the  mi- 
asma of  evil  thoughts  which  Stephen's  words  seemed 
to  have  created.  The  fancy  seized  him  to  face  these 
half-veiled  suggestions  of  his  brother's,  so  far  as  they; 
concerned  himself  and  his  life  during  the  last  few; 
months. 

Stephen  was  right.  This  woman  who  had  dropped 
from  the  clouds  for  those  few  brief  hours  had  played 
strange  havoc  with  John's  thoughts  and  his  whole  out- 
look upon  life.  The  coming  of  harvest,  the  care  of  his 
people,  his  sports,  his  cricket,  the  early  days  upon  the 
grouse  moors,  had  all  suddenly  lost  their  interest  for 
him.  Life  had  become  a  task.  The  echo  of  her  half- 
mocking,  half-challenging  words  was  always  in  his  ears. 


64  THE  HILLMAN 

He  sat  with  his  head  resting  upon  his  hands,  looking 
steadfastly  across  the  valley  below.  Almost  at  his  feet 
lay  the  little  church  with  its  graveyard,  the  long  line  of 
stacks  and  barns,  the  laborers'  cottages,  the  bailiffs 
house,  the  whole  little  colony  around  which  his  life 
seemed  centered.  The  summer  moonlight  lay  upon  the 
ground  almost  like  snow.  He  could  see  the  sheaves  of 
wheat  standing  up  in  the  most  distant  of  the  cornfields. 
Beyond  was  the  dark  gorge  toward  which  he  had  looked 
so  many  nights  at  this  hour. 

Across  the  viaduct  there  came  a  blaze  of  streaming 
light,  a  serpentlike  trail,  a  faintly  heard  whistle  —  the 
Scottish  Express  on  its  way  southward  toward  London. 
His  eyes  followed  it  out  of  sight.  He  found  himself 
thinking  of  the  passengers  who  would  wake  the  next 
morning  in  London.  He  felt  himself  suddenly  acutely 
conscious  of  his  isolation.  Was  there  not  something 
almost  monastic  in  the  seclusion  which  had  become  a 
passion  with  Stephen,  and  which  had  its  grip,  too,  upon 
him  —  a  waste  of  life,  a  burying  of  talents? 

He  rose  to  his  feet.  The  half-formed  purpose  of 
weeks  held  him  now,  definite  and  secure.  He  knew  that 
this  pilgrimage  of  his  to  the  hilltop,  his  rapt  contempla- 
tion of  the  little  panorama  which  had  become  so  dear  to 
him,  was  in  a  sense  valedictory. 

After  all,  two  more  months  passed  before  the  end 
came,  and  it  came  then  without  a  moment's  warning. 
It  was  a  little  past  midday  when  John  drove  slowly 
through  the  streets  of  Market  Ketton  in  his  high  dog- 
cart, exchanging  salutations  right  and  left  with  the 
tradespeople,  with  farmers  brought  into  town  by  the 
market,  with  acquaintances  of  all  sorts  and  conditions. 
More  than  one  young  woman  from  the  shop-windows  or 


THE  HILLMAN  65 

the  pavements  ventured  to  smile  at  him,  and  the  few 
greetings  he  received  from  the  wives  and  daughters  of 
his  neighbors  were  as  gracious  as  they  could  possibly 
be  made.  John  almost  smiled  once,  in  the  act  of  raising 
his  hat,  as  he  realized  how  completely  the  whole  charm 
of  the  world,  for  him,  seemed  to  lie  in  one  woman's 
eyes. 

At  the  crossways,  where  he  should  have  turned  up 
to  the  inn,  he  paused  while  a  motor-car  passed.  It 
contained  a  woman,  who  was  talking  to  her  host.  She 
was  not  in  the  least  like  Louise,  and  yet  instinctively  he 
knew  that  she  was  of  the  same  world.  The  perfection 
of  her  white-serge  costume,  her  hat  so  smartly  worn, 
the  half-insolent  smile,  the  little  gesture  with  which  she 
raised  her  hand  —  something  about  her  unlocked  the 
floodgates. 

Market  Ketton  had  seemed  well  enough  a  few  minutes 
ago.  John  had  felt  a  healthy  appetite  for  his  midday 
meal,  and  a  certain  interest  concerning  a  deal  of  barley 
upon  which  he  was  about  to  engage.  And  now  another 
world  had  him  in  its  grip.  He  flicked  the  mare  with 
his  whip,  turned  away  from  the  inn,  and  galloped  up  to 
the  station,  keeping  pace  with  the  train  whose  whistle 
he  had  heard.  Standing  outside  was  a  local  horse- 
dealer  of  his  acquaintance. 

"  Take  the  mare  back  for  me  to  Peak  Hall,  will  you, 
Jenkins,  or  send  one  of  your  lads?"  he  begged.  "I 
want  to  catch  this  train." 

The  man  assented  with  pleasure  —  it  paid  to  do  a 
kindness  for  a  Strangewey.  John  passed  through  the 
ticket-office  to  the  platform,  where  the  train  was  wait- 
ing, threw  open  the  door  of  a  carriage,  and  flung  him- 
self into  a  corner  seat.  The  whistle  sounded.  The  ad- 
venture of  his  life  had  begun  at  last. 


vn 

The  great  French  dramatist,  dark,  pale-faced,  and 
corpulent,  stood  upon  the  extreme  edge  of  the  stage, 
brandishing  his  manuscript  in  his  hand.  From  close 
at  hand,  the  stage  manager  watched  him  anxiously. 
For  the  third  time  M.  Graillot  was  within  a  few  inches  of 
the  orchestra-well. 

"  If  you  would  pardon  me,  M.  Graillot,"  he  ventured 
timidly,  "  the  footlights  are  quite  unprotected,  as  you 
see." 

Graillot  glanced  behind  him  and  promptly  abandoned 
his  dangerous  position. 

"  It  is  you,  ladies  and  gentlemen,"  he  declared,  shak- 
ing his  manuscript  vigorously  at  the  handful  of  people 
upon  the  stage,  "  who  drive  me  into  forgetfulness  and 
place  me  in  the  danger  from  which  our  friend  here  has 
just  rescued  me.  Do  I  not  best  know  the  words  and  the 
phrases  which  will  carry  the  messages  of  my  play  across 
the  footlights?  Who  is  to  judge,  ladies  and  gentlemen 
—  you  or  I  ?  " 

He  banged  the  palm  of  his  left  hand  with  the  rolled- 
up  manuscript  and  looked  at  them  all  furiously.  A 
slight,  middle-aged  man,  clean-shaven,  with  a  single  eye- 
glass, and  features  very  well  known  to  the  theatergoing 
world,  detached  himself  a  little  from  the  others. 

"  No  one  indeed,  dear  M.  Graillot,"  he  admitted, 
'*  could  possibly  know  these  things  so  well  as  you ;  but, 
on  the  other  hand,  when  you  write  in  your  study  at 


THE  HILLMAN  67; 

Fontainebleau  you  write  for  a  quicker-minded  public 
than  ours.  The  phrase  which  would  find  its  way  at  once 
to  the  brain  of  the  French  audience  needs,  shall  I  say, 
just  a  little  amplification  to  carry  equal  weight  across 
the  footlights  of  my  theater.  I  will  admit  that  we  are 
dealing  with  a  translation  which  is,  in  its  way,  not  suffi- 
ciently literal,  but  our  friend  Shamus  here  has  pointed 
out  to  me  the  difficulties.  The  fact  is,  M.  Graillot,  that 
some  of  the  finest  phrases  in  your  work  are  untranslat- 
able." 

"  There  are  times,"  the  dramatist  asserted,  moisten- 
ing his  lips  vigorously  with  his  tongue,  "  when  I  regret 
that  I  ever  suffered  Mr.  Shamus  or  anybody  else  to  at- 
tempt to  translate  my  inimitable  play  into  a  language 
wholly  inadequate  to  express  its  charm  and  subtlety ! " 

"  Quite  so,"  the  actor  remarked  sympathetically ; 
*'  but  still,  since  the  deed  has  been  done,  M.  Graillot, 
and  since  we  are  going  to  produce  the  result  in  the 
course  of  a  fortnight  or  so,  or  lose  a  great  deal  of 
money,  don't  you  think  that  we  had  all  better  try  our 
utmost  to  insure  the  success  of  the  production  ?  " 

*'  The  only  success  I  care  for,"  Graillot  thundered, 
"  is  an  artistic  success  !  " 

"  With  Miss  Maurel  playing  your  leading  part,  M. 
Graillot,"  the  actor-manager  declared,  "  not  to  speak 
of  a  company  carefully  selected  to  the  best  of  my  judg- 
ment, I  think  you  may  venture  to  anticipate  even  that." 

The  dramatist  bowed  hurriedly  to  Louise. 

"  You  recall  to  me  a  fact,"  he  said  gallantly,  "  which 
almost  reconciles  me  to  this  diabolical  travesty  of  some 
of  my  lines.  Proceed,  then  —  proceed!  I  will  be  as 
patient  as  possible." 

The  stage  manager  shouted  out  some  directions  from 
his  box.  A  gentleman  in  faultless  morning  clothes,  who 


68  THE  HILLMAN 

seemed  to  have  been  thoroughly  enjoying  the  interlude, 
suddenly  adopted  the  puppetlike  walk  of  a  footman. 
Other  actors,  who  had  been  whispering  together  in  the 
wings,  came  back  to  their  places.  Louise  advanced 
alone,  a  little  languidly,  to  the  front  of  the  stage.  At 
the  first  sound  of  her  voice  M.  Graillot,  nodding  his  head 
vigorously,  was  soothed. 

Her  speech  was  a  long  one.  It  appeared  that  she 
had  been  arraigned  before  a  company  of  her  relatives, 
assembled  to  comment  upon  her  misdeeds.  She  wound 
up  with  a  passionate  appeal  to  her  husband,  Mr.  Miles 
Faraday,  who  had  made  an  unexpected  appearance. 
M.  Graillot's  face,  as  she  concluded,  was  wreathed  in 
smiles. 

"  Ah !  "  he  cried.  "  You  have  lifted  us  all  up !  Now 
I  feel  once  more  the  inspiration.  Mademoiselle,  I  kiss 
your  hand,"  he  went  on.  "  It  is  you  who  still  redeem 
my  play.  You  bring  back  the  spirit  of  it  to  me.  In 
you  I  see  the  embodiment  of  my  Therese" 

Miles  Faraday  gave  a  little  sigh  of  relief  and  glanced 
gratefully  toward  Louise.  She  nodded  back  to  him  and 
gave  her  hand  to  the  Frenchman,  who  held  it  to  his 
lips. 

"You  flatter  me,  M.  Graillot,"  she  said.  "It  is 
simply  that  I  feel  the  force  of  your  beautiful  words. 
Thcrese  is  a  wonderful  conception!  As  to  those  dis- 
puted passages  —  well,  I  feel  myself  in  a  very  difficult 
position.  Artistically,  I  am  entirely  in  accord  with 
you,  and  yet  I  understand  exactly  what  Mr.  Faraday 
means  from  the  commercial  point  of  view.  Let  us  sub- 
mit the  matter  to  the  prince.  He  knows  something  of 
both  sides  of  the  question." 

The  Prince  of  Seyre,  who  was  seated  in  the  orchestra- 
leader's  chair,  looked  reproachfully  toward  Louise. 


THE  HILLMAN  69 

"  Is  this  fair  ?  "  he  protested.  "  Remember  that  I 
am  more  than  half  a  Frenchman,  and  that  I  am  one  of 
our  friend's  most  faithful  disciples.  I  realize  the  deli- 
cacy of  the  situation,  and  I  understand  Mr.  Faraday's 
point  of  view.  I  tell  you  frankly  that  the  thought  of 
an  empty  theater  appals  me.  It  is  not  the  money  —  I 
am  sure  you  all  know  that  —  but  there  isn't  a  single 
man  or  woman  in  the  world  who  can  do  his  best  unless 
he  or  she  plays  to  a  full  house.  Somehow  or  other,  we 
must  secure  our  audience." 

"  It  really  comes  to  this,"  Faraday  intervened. 
**  Shall  we  achieve  a  purely  artistic  triumph  and  drive 
the  people  away  ?  Or  shall  we  —  at  the  expense,  I  ad- 
mit, of  some  of  the  finest  passages  in  M.  Graillot's  su- 
perb drama  —  compromise  the  matter  and  keep  our 
box-office  open?  In  a  more  humble  way  I  hope  I  also 
may  call  myself  an  artist ;  and  yet  not  only  must  I  live 
myself,  but  I  have  a  staff  of  employees  dependent 
upon  me." 

Graillot  waved  his  hand. 

"  So !  No  more ! "  he  exclaimed  grandiloquently. 
'*  The  affair  is  finished.  My  consent  is  given.  Delete 
the  lines!  As  to  the  scene  laid  in  the  bedroom  of 
madame,  to-night  I  shall  take  up  my  pen.  By  noon  to- 
morrow I  will  give  you  a  revision  which  will  puff  out  the 
cheeks  of  the  Philistines  with  satisfaction.  Have  no 
fear,  cher  ami  Faraday !  Mothers  shall  bring  their 
unmarried  daughters  to  see  our  play.  They  shall  all 
watch  it  without  a  blush.  If  there  is  anything  to  make 
the  others  think,  it  shall  be  beneath  the  surface.  It 
shall  be  for  the  great  artist  whom  it  is  my  supreme  joy 
to  watch,"  he  went  on,  bowing  to  Louise,  "  to  act  and 
express  the  real  truth  of  my  ideas  through  the  music 
of  innocent  words." 


70  THE  HILLMAN 

"  Then  all  is  arranged,"  Miles  Faraday  concluded 
briskly.  "  We  will  leave  the  second  act  until  tomor- 
row; then  M.  Graillot  will  bring  us  his  revision.  We 
will  proceed  now  to  the  next  act.  Stand  back  a  little, 
if  you  please,  ladies  and  gentlemen.  Miss  Maurel,  will 
you  make  your  entrance?  " 

Louise  made  no  movement.  Her  eyes  were  fixed  upon 
a  certain  shadowy  corner  of  the  wings.  Overwrought 
as  she  had  seemed  a  few  minutes  ago,  with  the  emotional 
excitement  of  her  long  speech,  there  was  now  a  new  and 
curious  expression  upon  her  face.  She  seemed  to  be 
looking  beyond  the  gloomy,  unlit  spaces  of  the  theater; 
into  some  unexpected  land. 

Curiously  enough,  the  three  people  there  most  inter- 
ested in  her  —  the  prince,  Graillot,  and  her  friend^ 
Sophy  Gerard  —  each  noticed  the  change.  The  little 
fair-haired  girl,  who  owed  her  small  part  in  the  play 
to  Louise,  quitted  her  chair  to  follow  the  direction  of 
her  friend's  eyes.  Faraday,  with  the  frown  of  an  actor- 
manager  resenting  an  intrusion,  gazed  in  the  same  di- 
rection. 

To  Sophy,  the  newcomer  was  simply  the  handsomest 
young  man  she  had  ever  seen  in  her  life.  To  Faraday 
he  represented  nothing  more  nor  less  than  the  unwel- 
come intruder.  The  prince  alone,  with  immovable  fea- 
tures, but  with  a  slight  contraction  of  his  eyebrows, 
gazed  with  distrust,  almost  with  fear,  unaccountable  yet 
disturbing,  at  the  tall  hesitating  figure  that  stood  just 
off  the  stage. 

Louise  only  knew  that  she  was  amazed  at  herself, 
amazed  to  find  the  walls  of  the  theater  falling  away  from 
her.  She  forgot  the  little  company  of  her  friends  by 
whom  she  was  surrounded.  She  forgot  the  existence  of 
the  famous  dramatist  who  hung  upon  her  words,  and 


THE  HILLMAN  71 

the  close  presence  of  the  prince.  Her  feet  no  longer 
trod  the  dusty  boards  of  the  theater.  She  was  almost 
painfully  conscious  of  the  perfume  of  apple-blossom. 

"  You ! "  she  exclaimed,  stretching  out  her  hands. 
*'  Why  do  you  not  come  and  speak  to  me  ?  I  am  here ! " 

John  came  out  upon  the  stage.  The  French  drama- 
tist, with  his  hands  behind  his  back,  made  swift  mental 
notes  of  an  interesting  situation.  He  saw  the  coming 
of  a  man  who  stood  like  a  giant  among  them,  sunburnt, 
buoyant  with  health,  his  eyes  bright  with  the  wonder 
of  his  unexpected  surroundings ;  a  man  in  whose  pres- 
ence every  one  else  seemed  to  represent  an  effete  and 
pallid  type  of  humanity. 

The  dramatist  and  the  prince  were  satisfied,  however, 
with  one  single  glance  at  the  newcomer.  Afterward, 
their  whole  regard  was  focused  upon  Louise.  The  same 
thought  was  in  the  mind  of  both  of  them  —  the  same 
fear! 


Those  first  few  sentences,  spoken  in  the  midst  of  a 
curious  little  crowd  of  strangers,  seemed  to  John,  when 
he  thought  of  his  long  waiting,  almost  piteously  inade- 
quate. Louise,  recognizing  the  difficulty  of  the  situa- 
tion, swiftly  recovered  her  composure.  She  was  both 
tactful  and  gracious. 

"  Do  tell  me  how  you  got  in  here,"  she  said.  "  No 
one  is  allowed  to  pass  the  stage  door  at  rehearsal  times. 
Mr.  Faraday,  to  whom  I  will  introduce  you  in  a  mo- 
ment, is  a  perfect  autocrat ;  and  Mr.  Mullins,  our  stage 
manager,  is  even  worse." 

"  I  just  asked  for  you,"  John  explained.  "  The 
(doorkeeper  told  me  that  you  were  engaged,  but  I  per-c 
suaded  him  to  let  me  come  in." 

She  shook  her  head. 

'*  Bribery !  "  she  declared  accusingly. 

"  I  heard  your  voice,  and  after  that  it  was  hard  to  go 
away.  I'm  afraid  I  ought  to  have  waited  outside." 

Louise  turned  to  Miles  Faraday,  who  was  looking  a 
little  annoyed. 

"  Mr.  Faraday,"  she  said  appealingly,  "  Mr. 
Strangewey  comes  from  the  country  —  he  is,  in  fact, 
the  most  complete  countryman  I  have  ever  met  in  my 
life.  He  comes  from  Cumberland,  and  he  once  —  well, 
very  nearly  saved  my  life.  He  knows  nothing  about 
theaters,  and  he  hasn't  the  least  idea  of  the  importance 


THE  HILLMAN  73 

of  a  rehearsal.  You  won't  mind  if  we  put  him  some- 
where out  of  the  way  till  we  have  finished,  will  you  ?  " 

"  After  such  an  introduction,"  Faraday  said  in  a 
tone  of  resignation,  "  Mr.  Strangewey  would  be  wel- 
come at  any  time." 

"  There's  a  dear  man ! "  Louise  exclaimed.  "  Let  me 
introduce  him  quickly.  Mr.  John  Strangewey  —  Mr. 
Miles  Faraday,  M.  Graillot,  Miss  Sophy  Gerard,  my 
particular  little  friend.  The  prince  you  already  know, 
although  you  may  not  recognize  him  trying  to  balance 
himself  on  that  absurd  stool." 

John  bowed  in  various  directions,  and  Faraday,  tak- 
ing him  good-naturedly  by  the  arm,  led  him  to  a  garden- 
seat  at  the  back  of  the  stage. 

"  There ! "  he  said.  "  You  are  one  of  the  most 
privileged  persons  in  London.  You  shall  hear  the  finish 
of  our  rehearsal.  There  isn't  a  press  man  in  London 
I'd  have  near  the  place." 

"  Very  kind  of  you,  I'm  sure,"  John  replied.  "  Is 
[this,  may  I  ask,  the  play  that  you  are  soon  going  to 
produce?  " 

"  Three  weeks  from  next  Monday,  I  hope,"  Faraday 
told  him.  "  Don't  attempt  to  judge  by  anything  you 
hear  this  afternoon.  We  are  just  deciding  upon  some 
cuts.  See  you  later.  You  may  smoke,  if  you  like." 

Twenty-four  hours  away  from  his  silent  hills,  John 
looked  out  with  puzzled  eyes  from  his  dusty  seat  among 
ropes  and  pulleys  and  leaning  fragments  of  scenery. 
What  he  saw  and  heard  seemed  to  him,  for  the  most 
part,  a  meaningless  tangle  of  gestures  and  phrases. 
The  men  and  women  in  fashionable  clothes,  moving 
about  before  that  gloomy  space  of  empty  auditorium, 
looked  more  like  marionettes  than  creatures  of  flesh  and 
blood,  drawn  this  way  and  that  at  the  bidding  of  the 


74  THE  HILLMAN 

stout,  masterly  Frenchman,  who  was  continually  mut- 
tering exclamations  and  banging  the  manuscript  upon 
his  hand. 

He  kept  his  eyes  fixed  upon  Louise.  He  told  himself 
that  he  was  in  her  presence  at  last.  As  the  moments 
passed,  it  became  more  and  more  difficult  for  him  to 
realize  the  actuality  of  the  scene  upon  which  he  was 
looking.  It  seemed  like  a  dream-picture,  with  unreal 
men  and  women  moving  about  aimlessly,  saying  strange 
words. 

Then  there  came  a  moment  which  brought  a  tingle 
into  his  blood,  which  plunged  his  senses  into  hot  confu- 
sion. He  rose  to  his  feet.  Faraday  was  sitting  down, 
and  Louise  was  resting  both  her  hands  upon  his 
shoulders. 

**  Is  there  nothing  I  can  be  to  you,  then,  Edmund?  " 
she  asked,  her  voice  vibrating  with  a  passion  which  he 
found  it  hard  to  believe  was  not  real. 

Faraday  turned  slowly  in  his  chair.  He  held  out 
his  arms. 

"  One  thing,"  he  murmured. 

John  had  moved  half  a  step  forward  when  he  felt  the 
prince's  eyes  fixed  upon  him,  and  was  conscious  of  a 
sudden  sense  of  ignorance,  almost  of  uncouthness.  It 
was  a  play  which  they  were  rehearsing,  of  course!  It 
was  a  damnable  thing  to  see  Louise  taken  into  that  cold 
and  obviously  unreal  embrace,  but  it  was  only  a  play. 
It  was  part  of  her  work. 

John  resumed  his  seat  and  folded  his  arms.  With 
the  embrace  had  fallen  an  imaginary  curtain,  and  the 
rehearsal  was  over.  They  were  all  crowded  together, 
talking,  in  the  center  of  the  stage.  The  prince,  who 
had  stepped  across  the  footlights,  made  his  way  to 
where  John  was  sitting. 


THE  HILLMAN  75 

'**  So  you  have  deserted  Cumberland  for  a  time?  "  he 
courteously  inquired. 

"  I  came  up  last  night,"  John  replied. 

**  You  are  making  a  long  stay  ?  " 

John  hesitated.  He  felt  that  no  one  knew  less  of  his 
movements  than  he  himself.  His  eyes  had  wandered  to 
where  Louise  and  Graillot  were  talking. 

"  I  can  scarcely  tell  yet.     I  have  made  no  plans." 

"  London,  at  this  season  of  the  year,"  the  prince  ob- 
served, "  is  scarcely  at  its  best." 

John  smiled. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  he  said,  "  that  I  am  not  critical.  It 
is  eight  years  since  I  was  here  last,  on  my  way  down 
from  Oxford." 

"  You  have  been  abroad,  perhaps  ?  "  the  prince  in- 
quired. 

"  I  have  not  been  out  of  Cumberland  (during  the  whole 
of  that  time,"  John  confessed. 

The  prince,  after  a  moment's  incredulous  stare, 
laughed  softly  to  himself. 

"  You  are  a  yery  wonderful  person,  Mr.  Strange- 
wey,"  he  declared.  "  I  have  heard  of  your  good  for- 
tune. If  I  can  be  of  any  service  to  you  during  your 
stay  in  town,"  he  added  politely,  "  please  command  me." 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  John  replied  gratefully. 

Louise  broke  away  from  the  little  group  and  came 
across  toward  them. 

"  Free  at  last !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Now  let  us  go  out 
and  have  some  tea." 

They  made  their  way  down  the  little  passage  and  out 
into  the  sudden  blaze  of  the  sunlit  streets.  Two  cars 
were  drawn  up  outside  the  stage  door. 

"  The  Carlton  or  Rumpelmayer's  ?  "  asked  the  prince, 
who  had  overtaken  them  upon  the  pavement. 


76  THE  HILLMAN 

"  The  Carlton,  I  think,"  Louise  decided.  "  We  can 
get  a  quiet  table  there  inside  the  restaurant.  You 
bring  Sophy,  trill  you,  Eugene?  I  am  going  to  take 
possession  of  Mr.  Strangewey." 

The  prince,  with  a  little  bow,  pointed  to  the  door  of 
his  limousine,  which  a  footman  was  holding  open. 
Louise  led  John  to  a  smaller  car  which  was  waiting  in 
the  rear. 

"  The  Carlton,"  she  told  the  man,  as  he  arranged  the 
rugs.  "  And  now,"  she  added,  turning  to  John,  "  why 
have  you  come  to  London  ?  How  long  are  you  going  to 
stay  ?  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  And  —  most  im- 
portant of  all  —  in  what  spirit  have  you  come?  " 

John  breathed  a  little  sigh  of  contentment.  They 
were  moving  slowly  down  a  back  street  to  take  their 
place  in  the  tide  of  traffic  which  flooded  the  main  thor- 
oughfares. 

**  That  sounds  so  like  you,"  he  said.  "  I  came  up 
last  night,  suddenly.  I  have  no  idea  how  long  I  am 
going  to  stay ;  I  have  no  idea  what  I  am  going  to  do. 
As  for  the  spirit  in  which  I  have  come  —  well,  I  should 
call  it  an  inquiring  one." 

"  A  very  good  start,"  Louise  murmured  approvingly, 
"  but  still  a  little  vague ! " 

"  Then  I  will  do  away  with  all  vagueness.  I  came  to 
see  you,"  John  confessed  bluntly. 

"  Dear  me ! "  she  exclaimed,  looking  at  him  with  a 
little  smile.  "  How  downright  you  are !  " 

"  Country  methods,"  he  reminded  her. 

"  Don't  overdo  it,"  she  begged. 

"  The  truth  — "  he  began. 

"  Has  to  be  handled  very  carefully,"  she  said,  inter- 
rupting him.  "  The  truth  is  either  beautiful  or  crude, 
and  the  people  who  meddle  with  such  a  wonderful  thing 


THE  HILLMAN  77 

need  a  great  deal  of  tact.  You  have  come  to  see  me, 
you  say.  Very  well,  then,  I  will  be  just  as  frank.  I 
have  been  hoping  that  you  would  come !  " 

"  You  can't  imagine  how  good  it  is  to  hear  you  say 
that,"  he  declared. 

"  Mind,"  she  went  on,  "  I  have  been  hoping  it  for 
more  reasons  than  one.  You  have  come  to  realize,  I 
hope,  that  it  is  your  duty  to  try  to  see  a  little  more  of 
life  than  you  possibly  can  leading  a  patriarchal  ex- 
istence among  your  flocks  and  herds." 

"  That  may  be  so,"  John  assented.  *'  I  have  often 
thought  of  our  conversation.  I  don't  know,  even  now, 
whether  you  were  right  or  wrong.  I  only  know  that 
since  you  went  away  I  have  felt  something  of  the  unrest 
with  which  you  threatened  me.  I  want  to  settle  the 
matter  one  way  or  the  other.  I  want  to  try,  for  a 
little  time,  what  it  is  like  to  live  in  the  crowded  places, 
to  be  near  you,  to  see,  if  I  may,  more  of  you  and  your 
way  of  living." 

They  were  silent  for  several  moments. 

"  I  thought  you  would  come,"  Louise  said  at  last ; 
"  and  I  am  glad,  but  even  in  these  first  few  minutes  I 
want  to  say  something  to  you.  If  you  wish  to  succeed 
in  your  object,  and  really  understand  the  people  you 
meet  here  and  the  life  they  lead,  don't  be  like  your 
brother  —  too  quick  to  judge.  Do  not  hug  your  prej- 
udices too  tightly.  You  will  come  across  many  prob- 
lems, many  situations  which  will  seem  strange  to  you. 
Do  not  make  up  your  mind  about  anything  in  a 
hurry." 

"  I  will  remember  that,"  he  promised.  "  You  must 
remember,  though,  that  I  don't  expect  ever  to  become  a 
convert.  I  believe  I  am  a  countryman,  bred  and  born. 
Still,  there  are  some  things  that  I  want  to  understand, 


£8  THE  HILLMAN 

if  I  can,  and,  more  than  anything  else  —  I  want  to  see 
you ! " 

She  faced  his  direct  speech  this  time  with  more  de- 
liberation. 

"  Tell  me  exactly  why." 

"  If  I  could  tell  you  that,"  he  replied  simply,  "  I 
should  be  able  to  answer  for  myself  the  riddle  which 
has  kept  me  awake  at  night  for  weeks  and  months, 
which  has  puzzled  me  more  than  anything  else  in  life 
has  ever  done." 

"  You  really  have  thought  of  me,  then  ?  " 

"Didn't  you  always  know  that  I  should?" 

"  Perhaps,"  she  admitted.  "  Anyhow,  I  always  felt 
that  we  should  meet  again,  that  you  would  come  to  Lon- 
don. The  problem  is,"  she  added,  smiling,  "  what  to  do 
with  you  now  you  are  here." 

"  I  haven't  come  to  be  a  nuisance,"  he  assured  her. 
"  I  just  want  a  little  help  from  you." 

She  became  indiscreet.  She  looked  at  him  with  a 
little  smile  at  the  corners  of  her  lips. 

"  Nothing  else  ?  "  she  asked,  almost  under  her  breath. 

"  At  the  end  of  it  all,  yes,"  he  answered  simply.  "  I 
want  to  understand  because  it  is  your  world.  I  want 
to  feel  myself  nearer  to  you.  I  want  — " 

She  gripped  at  his  arm  suddenly.  She  knew  well 
enough  that  she  had  deliberately  provoked  his  words, 
but  there  was  a  look  in  her  face  almost  of  fear. 

"  Don't  let  us  be  too  serious  all  at  once,"  she  begged 
quickly.  "  If  you  have  one  fault,  my  dear  big  friend 
from  the  country,"  she  went  on,  with  a  swiftly  assumed 
gaiety,  "  it  is  that  you  are  too  serious  for  your  years. 
Sophy  and  I  between  us  must  try  to  cure  you  of  that! 
You  see,  we  have  arrived." 

He  handed  her  out,  followed  her  across  the  pavement, 


THE  HILLMAN  79 

and  found  himself  plunged  into  what  seemed  to  him  to 
be  an  absolute  vortex  of  human  beings,  all  dressed  in 
very  much  the  same  fashion,  all  laughing  and  talking 
together  very  much  in  the  same  note,  all  criticising  every 
fresh  group  of  arrivals  with  very  much  the  same  eyes 
and  manner.  The  palm-court  was  crowded  with  little 
parties  seated  at  the  various  round  tables,  partaking 
languidly  of  the  most  indolent  meal  of  the  day.  Even, 
the  broad  passageway  was  full  of  men  and  women, 
standing  about  talking  or  looking  for  tables.  One 
could  scarcely  hear  the  music  of  the  orchestra  for  the 
babel  of  voices. 

The  Prince  of  Seyre  beckoned  to  them  from  the  steps. 
He  seemed  to  have  been  awaiting  their  arrival  there  — > 
a  cold,  immaculate,  and,  considering  his  lack  of  height, 
a  curiously  distinguished-looking  figure. 

'*  I  have  a  table  inside,"  he  told  them  as  they  ap- 
proached. "  It  is  better  for  conversation.  The  rest 
of  the  place  is  like  a  beer-garden.  I  am  not  sure  if 
they  will  dance  here  to-day,  but  if  they  do,  they  will 
come  also  into  the  restaurant." 

"  Wise  man !  "  Louise  declared.  "  I,  too,  hate  the 
babel  outside." 

They  were  ushered  to  a  round  table  directly  before 
the  entrance,  and  a  couple  of  attentive  waiters  stood 
behind  their  chairs. 

"  We  are  faced,"  said  the  prince,  as  he  took  up  the 
menu,  "  with  our  daily  problem.  What  can  I  order  for 
you?" 

"  A  cup  of  chocolate,"  Louise  replied. 

"And  Miss  Sophy?" 

"Tea,  please." 

John,  too,  preferred  tea ;  the  prince  ordered  absinth. 

"  A  polyglot  meal,  isn't  it,  Mr.  Strangewey  ?  "  said 


So  THE  HILLMAN 

Louise,  as  the  order  was  executed ;  "  not  in  the  leas€ 
what  that  wonderful  old  butler  of  jours  would  under- 
stand by  tea.  We  become  depraved  in  our  appetites, 
as  well  as  in  our  sensations.  We  are  always  seeking 
for  something  new.  Sophy,  put  your  hat  on  straight 
if  you  want  to  make  a  good  impression  on  Mr.  Strange- 
wey.  I  am  hoping  that  you  two  will  be  great  friends." 

Sophy  turned  toward  John  with  a  little  grimace. 

"  Louise  is  so  tactless !  "  she  said.  "  I  am  sure  any 
idea  you  might  have  had  of  liking  me  will  have  gone 
already.  Has  it,  Mr.  Strangewey  ?  " 

"  On  the  contrary,"  he  replied,  a  little  stiffly,  but 
without  hesitation,  "  I  was  thinking  that  Miss  Maurel 
could  scarcely  have  set  me  a  more  pleasant  task." 

The  girl  looked  reproachfully  across  at  her  friend. 

"  You  told  me  he  came  from  the  wilds  and  was  quite 
unsophisticated !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  The  truth,"  John  assured  them,  looking  with  dis- 
may at  his  little  china  cup,  "  comes  very  easily  to  us. 
We  are  brought  up  on  it  in  Cumberland." 

"  Positively  nourished  on  it,"  Louise  agreed.  "  My 
dear  Sophy,  what  he  says  is  quite  true.  Up  there  a 
man  would  tell  you  that  he  didn't  like  the  cut  of  your 
new  blouse  or  the  droop  of  your  hat.  It's  a  wonder- 
ful atmosphere,  and  very  austere.  You  ought  to  meet 
Mr.  Strangewey's  brother,  if  you  want  to  know  the 
truth  about  yourself.  Do  go  on  looking  about  you, 
Mr.  Strangewey ;  and  when  you  have  finished,  tell  us  just 
what  you  are  thinking." 

"  Well,  just  at  that  moment,"  he  replied,  "  I  was 
thinking  that  I  ought  not  to  have  come  here  in  these 
clothes." 

The  girl  by  his  side  laughed  reassuringly. 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,  you  couldn't  have  done  any 


THE  HILLMAN  81 

thing  more  successful,"  she  declared.  "  The  one  thing 
up  here  that  every  one  would  like  to  do  if  he  dared  is  to 
be  different  from  his  fellows;  but  very  few  have  the 
necessary  courage.  Besides,  at  heart  we  are  all  so 
frightfully,  hatefully  imitative.  The  last  great  suc- 
cess was  the  prince,  when  he  wore  a  black  stock  with  a 
dinner-coat ;  but,  alas,  next  evening  there  were  forty  or 
fifty  of  them !  If  you  come  here  to  tea  to-morrow  aft- 
ernoon, I  dare  say  you  will  find  dozens  of  men  wearing 
gray  tweed  clothes,  colored  shirts,  and  brown  boots.  I 
am  sure  they  are  most  becoming !  " 

"  Don't  chatter  too  much,  child,"  Louise  said  be- 
nignly. "  I  want  to  hear  some  more  of  Mr.  Strange- 
wey's  impressions.  This  is  —  well,  if  not  quite  a  fash- 
ionable crowd,  yet  very  nearly  so.  What  do  you  think 
of  it  —  the  women,  for  instance  ?  " 

"  Well,  to  me,"  John  confesed  candidly,  "  they  all 
look  like  dolls  or  manikins.  Their  dresses  and  their 
hats  overshadow  their  faces.  They  seem  all  the  time  to 
be  wanting  to  show,  not  themselves,  but  what  they  have 
on." 

They  all  laughed.  Even  the  prince's  lips  were 
parted  by  the  flicker  of  a  smile.  Sophy  leaned  across 
the  table  with  a  sigh. 

"  Louise,"  she  pleaded,  "  you  will  lend  him  to  me 
sometimes,  won't  you?  You  won't  keep  him  altogether 
to  yourself?  There  are  such  a  lot  of  places  I  want  to 
take  him  to !  " 

"  I  was  never  greedy,"  Louise  remarked,  with  an  air 
of  self-satisfaction.  "  If  you  succeed  in  making  a  fa- 
vorable impression  upon  him,  I  promise  you  your 
share." 

"  Tell  us  some  more  of  your  impressions,  Mr. 
Strangewey,"  Sophy  begged. 


82  THE  HILLMAN 

*'  You  want  to  laugh  at  me,"  John  protested  good- 
humoredlj. 

"  On  the  contrary,"  the  prince  assured  him,  as  he 
fitted  a  cigarette  into  a  long,  amber  tube,  "  they  want 
to  laugh  with  you.  You  ought  to  realize  your  value  as 
a  companion  in  these  days.  You  are  the  only  person 
who  can  see  the  truth.  Eyes  and  tastes  blurred  with 
custom  perceive  so  little.  You  are  quite  right  when 
you  say  that  these  women  are  like  manikins ;  that  their 
bodies  and  faces  are  lost;  but  one  does  not  notice  it 
Until  it  is  pointed  out." 

"  We  will  revert,"  Louise  decided,  "  to  a  more  primi- 
tive life.  You  and  I  will  inaugurate  a  missionary  en- 
terprise, Mr.  Strangewey.  We  will  judge  the  world 
afresh.  We  will  reclothe  and  rehabilitate  it." 

The  prince  flicked  the  ash  from  the  end  of  his  ciga- 
rette. 

'*  Morally  as  well  as  sartorially  ?  "  he  asked. 

There  was  a  moment's  rather  queer  silence.  The 
music  rose  above  the  hubbub  of  voices  and  died  away 
again.  Louise  rose  to  her  feet. 

"  Quite  an  intelligent  person,  really,"  she  said,  mov- 
ing her  head  in  the  direction  of  the  prince.  "  His  little 
attacks  of  cynicism  come  only  with  indigestion  or  after 
absinth.  Now,  if  you  like,  you  shall  escort  me  home, 
Mr.  Strangewey.  I  want  to  show  him  exactly  where  I 
live,"  she  explained,  addressing  the  others,  "  so  that  he 
will  have  no  excuse  for  not  coming  to  pay  his  respects 
to  me  to-morrow  afternoon." 

The  prince,  with  a  skilful  maneuver,  made  his  way  to 
her  side  as  they  left  the  restaurant. 

"To-morrow  afternoon,  I  think  you  said?"  he  re- 
peated quietly.  "  You  will  be  in  town  then  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  think  so." 


THE  HILLMAN  83 

"  You  have  changed  your  mind,  then,  about  — " 

'*  M.  Graillot  will  not  listen  to  my  leaving  London," 
she  interrupted  rapidly.  "He  declares  that  it  is  too 
near  the  production  of  the  play.  My  own  part  may  be 
perfect,  but  he  needs  me  for  the  sake  of  the  others. 
He  puts  it  like  a  Frenchman,  of  course." 

They  had  reached  the  outer  door,  which  was  being 
held  open  for  them  by  a  bowing  commissionnaire.  John 
and  Sophy  were  waiting  upon  the  pavement.  The 
prince  drew  a  little  back. 

"  I  understand ! "  he  murmured. 


IX 

The  first  few  minutes  that  John  spent  in  Louise's 
little  house  were  full  of  acute  and  vivid  interest.  From 
the  moment  of  his  first  meeting  with  Louise  upon  the 
moonlit  Cumberland  road,  during  the  whole  of  that  next 
wonderful  morning  until  their  parting,  and  afterward, 
through  all  the  long,  dreaming  days  and  nights  that 
had  intervened,  she  had  remained  a  mystery  to  him. 
It  was  amazing  how  little  he  really  knew  of  her.  Dur- 
ing his  journey  to  town,  he  had  sat  with  folded  arms 
in  the  corner  of  his  compartment,  wondering  whether 
in  her  own  environment  he  would  find  her  easier  to  un- 
derstand. 

He  asked  himself  that  question  again  now,  as  he 
found  himself  in  her  drawing-room,  in  a  room  entirely 
redolent  of  her  personality.  Their  meeting  at  the  the- 
ater had  told  him  nothing.  She  had  gratified  his  senti- 
ment by  the  pleasure  she  had  shown  at  his  unexpected 
appearance,  but  his  understanding  remained  unsatisfied. 

The  room  that  he  was  so  eagerly  studying  confirmed 
his  cloudy  impressions  of  its  owner.  There  was,  for  a 
woman's  apartment,  a  curious  absence  of  ornamenta- 
tion and  knickknacks.  The  walls  were  black  and  white, 
an  idea  fantastic  in  its  way,  yet  carried  out  with  ex- 
treme lightness  in  the  ceiling  and  frieze.  The  carpet 
was  white ;  the  furniture,  of  which  there  was  very  little, 
of  the  French  period  before  the  rococo  type,  graceful 
in  its  outline,  rather  heavy  in  build,  and  covered  with 


THE  HILLMAN  85 

old-rose  colored  chintz.  There  were  water-colors  upon 
the  wall,  an  etching  or  two  from  a  Parisian  studio,  and 
some  small  black-and-white  fantasies,  puzzling  to  John, 
who  had  never  even  heard  the  term  Futurist,  yet  in 
their  way  satisfactory. 

There  was  a  small-sized  grand  piano,  which  seemed  to 
have  found  its  way  almost  apologetically  into  a  remote 
corner;  a  delightful  open  fireplace  with  rough,  white 
tiles,  and  an  old-fashioned  brass  box,  in  which  was  piled 
a  little  heap  of  sweet-smelling  wood  blocks.  A  table, 
drawn  up  to  the  side  of  one  of  the  easy  chairs,  was 
covered  with  books  and  magazines,  some  Italian,  a  few 
English,  the  greater  part  French ;  and  upon  a  smaller 
one,  close  at  hand,  stood  a  white  bowl  full  of  pink  roses. 
Their  odor  was  somehow  reminiscent  of  Louise,  curi- 
ously sweet  and  wholesome  —  an  odor  which  suddenly 
took  him  back  to  the  morning  when  she  had  come  to 
him  from  under  the  canopy  of  apple-blossom. 

He  drew  a  little  sigh  of  contentment  as  he  rose  to  his 
feet  and  walked  to  the  window.  The  room  charmed 
him.  It  was  wonderful  that  he  should  find  it  like  this. 
His  heart  began  to  beat  with  pleasure  even  before  the 
opening  of  the  door  announced  her  presence.  She 
came  in  with  Sophy,  who  at  once  seated  herself  by  his 
side. 

"  We  have  been  making  plans,"  Louise  declared,  "  for 
disposing  of  you  for  the  rest  of  the  day." 

John  smiled  happily. 

"  You're  not  sending  me  away,  then  ?  You're  not 
acting  this  evening?  " 

"  Not  until  three  weeks  next  Monday,"  she  replied. 
"  Then,  if  you  are  good,  and  the  production  is  not  post- 
poned, you  may  seat  yourself  in  a  box  and  make  all  the 
noise  you  like  after  the  fall  of  the  curtain.  These  are 


86  THE  HILLMAN 

real  holidays  for  me,  except  for  the  nuisance  of  re* 
hearsals.  You  couldn't  have  come  at  a  better  time." 

Sophy  glanced  at  the  clock. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  I  must  show  my  respect  to  that 
most  ancient  of  adages  by  taking  my  departure.  I 
feel—" 

"  You  will  do  nothing  of  the  sort,  child,"  Louise 
interrupted.  "  I  want  to  interest  you  in  the  evolution 
of  Mr.  Strangewey." 

"  I  don't  feel  that  I  am  necessary,"  Sophy  sighed* 
"  Perhaps  I  might  take  him  off  your  hands  some  evening; 
when  you  are  busy." 

"  On  this  first  evening,  at  any  rate,"  Louise  insisted, 
**  we  are  going  to  be  a  truly  harmonious  party  of  three.*' 

"  Of  course,  if  you  really  mean  it,"  Sophy  remarked, 
resuming  her  seat,  "  and  if  I  sha'n't  make  an  enemy  for] 
life  of  Mr.  Strangewey,  I  should  love  to  come,  too. 
Let's  decide  what  to  do  with  him,  Louise." 

For  a  moment  the  eyes  of  the  two  others  met.  Lou- 
ise looked  swiftly  away,  and  John's  heart  gave  a  little 
leap.  Was  it  possible  that  the  same  thought  had  been 
in  her  mind  —  to  spend  the  evening  quietly  in  that  little 
room  ?  Had  she  feared  it  ? 

"  We  must  remember,"  Louise  said  calmly,  '*  that  a 
heavy  responsibility  rests  upon  us.  It  is  his  first  night 
in  London.  What  aspect  of  it  shall  we  attempt  to 
show  him?  Shall  we  make  ourselves  resplendent,  put 
on  our  best  manners  and  our  most  gorgeous  gowns,  and 
show  him  the  world  of  starch  and  form  and  fashion  from 
the  prince's  box  at  the  opera?  Or  shall  we  transform 
ourselves  into  Bohemians,  drink  Chianti  at  our  beloved 
Antonio's,  cat  Italian  food  in  Soho,  smoke  long  ciga- 
rettes, and  take  him  to  the  Palace?  Don't  say  a  word, 
Sophy.  It  is  not  for  us  to  choose." 


THE  HILLMAN  87 

"  I  am  afraid  that  isn't  any  choice,"  John  (declared, 
his  face  falling.  "  I  haven't  any  clothes  except  what 
you  see  me  in." 

"  Hooray ! "  Sophy  exclaimed.  "  Off  with  your 
smart  gown,  Louise!  We'll  be  splendidly  Bohemian. 
You  shall  put  on  your  black  frock  and  a  black  hat,  and 
powder  your  nose,  and  we'll  all  go  to  Guido's  first  and 
drink  vermuth.  I  can't  look  the  part,  but  I  can  act 
it!" 

"  But  tell  me,"  Louise  asked  him,  "  did  you  lose  your 
luggage?" 

"  I  brought  none,"  he  answered. 

They  both  looked  at  him  —  Sophy  politely  curious, 
Louise  more  deeply  interested.  He  answered  the  in- 
quiry in  her  eyes. 

"  You'll  say,  perhaps,"  he  observed,  "  that  living 
that  quiet,  half-buried  life  up  in  Cumberland  one  should 
have  no  moods.  I  have  them  sometimes.  I  was  in 
Market  Ketton,  on  my  way  to  the  hotel  for  lunch,  when 
I  heard  the  whistle  of  the  London  Express  coming  in. 
I  just  had  time  to  drive  to  the  station,  leave  the  horse 
and  dog-cart  with  a  man  I  knew,  and  jump  into  the 
train.  I  had  no  ticket  or  luggage." 

They  both  stared  at  him. 

**  You  mean,"  Louise  demanded,  *'  that  after  waiting 
all  these  months  you  started  away  upon  impulse  like 
that  —  without  even  letting  your  brother  know  or 
bringing  any  luggage  ?  " 

"  That's  exactly  what  I  idid,"  John  agreed,  smiling. 
*'  I  had  a  sovereign  in  my  pocket  when  I  had  bought  my 
ticket ;  and  by  the  time  I  had  paid  for  my  dinner  on  the 
train,  and  tipped  the  men  —  well,  I  hadn't  a  great  deal 
left  to  go  shopping  with.  I  stayed  at  the  St.  Pancras 
:  Hotel,  and  telephoned  to  my  solicitor  before  I  got  up 


88  THE  HILLMAN 

this  morning  to  have  him  send  me  some  money.  The 
joke  of  it  was,"  he  went  on,  joining  in  the  girls'  laugh- 
ter, "  that  Mr.  Appleton  has  been  worrying  me  for 
months  to  come  up  and  talk  over  reinvestments,  and 
take  control  of  the  money  my  uncle  left  me ;  and  when  I 
came  at  last,  I  arrived  like  a  pauper.  He  went  out 
himself  and  bought  my  shirt." 

"  And  a  very  nice  shirt,  too,"  Sophy  declared,  glanc- 
ing at  the  pattern.  "  Do  tell  us  what  else  hap- 
pened ! " 

"  Well,  not  much  more,"  John  replied.  "  Mr.  Ap- 
pleton stuffed  me  full  of  money  and  made  me  take  a  little 
suite  of  rooms  at  what  he  called  a  more  fashionable 
hotel.  He  stayed  to  lunch  with  me,  and  I  have  prom- 
ised to  see  him  on  business  to-morrow  morning." 

The  two  girls  sat  up  and  wiped  their  eyes. 

"  Oh,  this  is  a  wonderful  adventure  you  have  em- 
barked upon ! "  Louise  exclaimed.  "  You  have  come 
quite  in  the  right  spirit.  Now  I  am  going  to  change 
my  clothes  and  powder  my  face,  and  we  will  go  to  Gui- 
de's for  a  little  vermuth,  dine  at  Antonio's,  and  sit  side 
by  side  at  the  Palace.  We  shall  have  to  take  Sophy 
with  us,  but  if  you  show  her  too  much  attention  I  shall 
send  her  home.  It  is  your  first  night  here,  Mr. 
Strangewey,  so  I  warn  you  that  Sophy  is  the  most  ir- 
responsible and  capricious  of  all  my  friends.  She  has 
more  admirers  than  she  knows  what  to  do  with,  and 
she  disposes  of  them  in  the  simplest  way  in  the  world  — 
by  getting  new  ones." 

Sophy  made  a  grimace. 

"  Mr.  Strangewey,"  she  begged  earnestly,  "  you 
won't  believe  a  word  she  says,  will  you?  All  my  life  I 
have  been  looking  for  a  single  and  steadfast  attachment. 
Of  course,  if  Louise  wants  to  monopolize  you,  I  shall 


THE  HILLMAN  89 

fall  into  the  background,  as  I  usually  do;  but  if  you 
think  that  I  am  going  to  accept  hints  and  let  you  go 
out  to  dinner  alone,  you  are  very  much  mistaken.  To- 
night, at  any  rate,  I  insist  upon  coming ! " 

Louise  shook  her  head. 

*'  We  shall  have  to  put  up  with  her,"  she  told  John 
with  a  little  grimace. 

The  door  of  the  room  was  suddenly  opened.  The 
parlor  maid  stood  at  one  side. 

"  The  Prince  of  Seyre,  madam,"  she  announced. 

Louise  nodded.  She  was  evidently  expecting  the 
yisit.  She  turned  to  John. 

"  Will  you  come  back  and  call  for  us  here  —  say  at 
seven  o'clock?  Mind,  you  are  not  to  bother  about  your 
clothes,  but  to  come  just  as  you  are.  I  can't  tell  you," 
she  added  under  her  breath,  "  how  much  I  am  looking 
forward  to  our  evening ! " 

Sophy  sprang  to  her  feet. 

"  Won't  you  drop  me,  please,  Mr.  Strangewey  ?  "  she 
asked.  "  Then,  if  you  will  be  so  kind,  you  can  pick  me 
tip  again  on  your  way  here.  You'll  have  to  pass  where 
I  live,  if  you  are  at  the  Milan.  I  must  go  home  and  do 
my  little  best  to  compete." 

Louise's  frown  was  so  slight  that  even  John  failed  to 
iiotice  it.  Upon  the  threshold  they  encountered  the 
prince,  who  detained  John  for  a  moment. 

"  I  was  hoping  that  I  might  meet  you  here,  Mr. 
Strangewey,"  he  said.  "  If  you  are  in  town  for  long,  it 
will  give  me  great  pleasure  if  I  can  be  of  any  service  to 
you.  You  are  staying  at  a  hotel?  " 

"  I  am  staying  at  the  Milan,"  John  replied. 

"  I  will  do  myself  the  pleasure  of  calling  upon  you," 
the  prince  continued.  "  In  the  meantime,  if  you  need 
any  service  that  a  Londoner  can  offer  you,  be  sure  to  let 


go  THE  HILLMAN 

me  know.  You  will  easily  find  my  house  in  Grosveno? 
Square." 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  you  indeed,"  John  said  gratefully. 

Sophy  made  a  wry  face  as  the  prince  entered  the 
drawing-room. 

"  Didn't  some  old  Roman  once  write  something  about 
being  afraid  of  Greeks  who  brought  gifts  ?  "  she  asked, 
as  they  descended  the  stairs  together. 

"  Quite  right,"  John  assented. 

"Well,  b(j  careful!"  she  advised  him.  "That's 
all." 

John  handed  Sophy  into  the  taxi  and  took  his  place 
beside  her. 

"  Where  shall  I  put  you  down?  "  he  asked. 

"  It's  such  a  terribly  low  neighborhood !  However, 
it's  quite  close  to  the  Milan- — No.  10  Southampton 
Street." 

John  gave  the  address  to  the  man,  and  they  started 
off.  They  were  blocked  in  a  stream  of  traffic  almost  as 
soon  as  they  reached  Hyde  Park  Corner.  John  leaned 
forward  all  the  time,  immensely  interested  in  the  stream 
of  passers-by. 

*'  Your  interest  in  your  fellow  creatures,"  she  mur- 
mured demurely,  '*  is  wonderful,  but  couldn't  you  con- 
centrate it  just  a  little?  " 

He  turned  quickly  around.  She  was  smiling  at  him 
most  alluringly.  Unconsciously  he  found  himself  smil- 
ing back  again.  A  wonderful  light-heartedness  seemed 
to  have  come  to  him  during  the  last  few  hours. 

"  I  suppose  I  am  a  perfect  idiot,"  he  admitted.  "  I 
cannot  help  it.  I  am  used  to  seeing,  at  the  most,  three 
or  four  people  together  at  a  time.  I  can't  understand 
these  crowds.  Where  are  they  all  going?  Fancjr 


THE  HILLMAN  91 

every  one  of  them  having  a  home,  every  one  of  them 
struggling  in  some  form  or  another  toward  happi- 
ness ! " 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  pronounced  severely,  "  for  a 
young  man  of  your  age  you  are  much  too  serious? 
Please  commence  your  psychological  studies  to-morrow. 
To-night  we  are  going  to  have  a  really  frivolous  eve- 
ning, you  and  I  —  and  Louise.  If  you  want  to  be  a 
great  success  during  the  next  few  hours,  what  you  have 
to  do  is  to  imagine  that  there  are  only  two  people  in  the 
world  beside  yourself  —  Louise  and  I." 

"  I  think  I  shall  find  that  very  easy,"  he  promised, 
smiling. 

*'  I  am  quite  sure  you  could  be  nice  if  you  wanted 
•to,"  she  continued.  "  How  much  are  you  in  love  with 
Louise?  " 

"  How  much  am  I  what?  " 

"  In  love  with  Louise,"  she  repeated.  **  All  the  men 
are.  It  is  a  perfect  cult  with  them.  And  here  am  I, 
her  humble  companion  and  friend,  absolutely  neg- 
lected!" 

"  I  don't  believe  you  are  neglected  at  all,"  he  replied. 
"  You  are  too  much  too  — " 

He  turned  his  head  to  look  at  her.  She  was  so  close 
to  him  that  their  hats  collided.  He  was  profuse  in  his 
apologies. 

"  Too  what  ?  "  she  whispered. 

"  Too  attractive,"  he  ventured. 

"  It's  nice  to  hear  you  say  so,"  she  sighed.  "  Well, 
I  have  to  get  out  here.  This  is  where  I  live,  up  on  the 
fourth  floor." 

"  How  does  one  get  there?  "  he  inquired. 

She  looked  at  him  quickly.  There  was  a  little  catch 
in  her  breath. 


92  THE  HILLMAN 

"What  do  you  mean?  "  she  murmured. 

*'  Didn't  you  say  that  I  was  to  come  and  fetch  you, 
and  then  we  could  go  on  to  Miss  Maurel's  together  ?  " 

"  Of  course,"  she  assented  slowly.  "  How  stupid  of 
me!  Some  day  I'll  show  you,  but  I  know  you  would 
lose  the  way  now.  If  you  like,  I'll  come  for  you  —  to 
the  Milan." 

"  If  you  would  really  prefer  it  ?  " 

"  I  am  quite  sure  that  I  should,"  she  decided. 
**  There  are  about  seven  turns  up  to  my  room,  and  I 
shall  have  to  personally  conduct  you  there  three  or  four 
times  before  you'll  ever  be  able  to  find  your  way.  I  will 
come  as  soon  as  I  am  ready,  and  then  you  can  give  me 
a  cocktail  before  we  set  out." 

She  disappeared  with  a  little  wave  of  the  hand,  and 
John  drove  on  to  his  destination.  His  rooms  at  the 
Milan  were  immensely  comfortable  and  in  their  way 
quite  homelike.  John  made  some  small  changes  to  his 
toilet  and  was  still  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  with  hair-brushes 
in  his  hands,  when  there  came  a  ring  at  the  bell.  He 
answered  it  at  once  and  found  Sophy  standing  outside. 
He  gave  a  little  start. 

"  I  say,  I'm  awfully  sorry !  " 

'*  What  for,  you  silly  person  ?  "  she  laughed.  "  Which 
way  is  the  sitting  room,  please?  Oh,  I  see!  Now, 
please  ring  for  the  waiter  and  order  me  a  vermuth  cock- 
tail, and  one  for  yourself,  of  course ;  and  I  want  some 
cigarettes.  How  clever  of  you  to  get  rooms  looking  out 
upon  the  Embankment!  I  wish  they  would  light  the 
lamps.  I  think  the  illuminated  arcs  along  the  Embank- 
ment and  past  the  Houses  of  Parliament  is  the  most 
wonderful  thing  in  London.  Don't  please,  look  so  ter- 
rified because  you  haven't  got  your  coat  on!  Remem- 
ber that  I  have  five  brothers." 


THE  HILLMAN  93 

"  I  had  no  idea  you  would  be  here  so  soon,"  he  ex- 
plained, "  or  I  would  have  been  downstairs,  waiting  for 
you."  ' 

"  Don't  be  stupid ! "  she  replied.  "  Please  remember 
that  when  you  are  with  me,  at  any  rate,  you  are  in 
Bohemia  and  not  Belgravia.  I  don't  expect  such  at- 
tentions. I  rather  like  coming  up  to  your  rooms  like 
this,  and  I  always  love  the  Milan.  I  really  believe  that 
I  am  your  first  lady  visitor  here." 

"  You  most  assuredly  are ! "  he  told  her. 

She  turned  away  from  the  window  and  suddenly  threw 
up  her  arms. 

"  Oh,  I  love  this  place ! "  she  exclaimed.  "  I  love  the 
sort  of  evening  that  we  are  going  to  have !  I  feel  happy 
to-night.  And  do  you  know?  —  I  quite  like  you,  Mr. 
Strangewey ! " 

She  clasped  the  back  of  her  chair  and  from  behind  it 
looked  across  at  him.  She  was  petite  and  slender,  with 
a  very  dainty  figure.  She  wore  a  black  tailor-made 
costume,  a  simple,  round-black  hat  with  a  long  quill  set 
at  a  provoking  angle,  white-silk  stockings,  and  black, 
patent  shoes.  She  was  unlike  any  girl  John  had  ever 
known.  Her  hair  was  almost  golden,  her  eyes  a  dis- 
tinct blue,  yet  some  trick  of  the  mouth  saved  her  face 
from  any  suggestion  of  insipidity.  She  was  looking 
straight  into  his  eyes,  and  her  lips  were  curled  most  in- 
vitingly. 

*'  I  wish  I  knew  more  about  certain  things,"  he  said. 

She  came  round  from  behind  the  chair  and  stood  a 
little  nearer  to  him. 

"What  things?" 

"  You  know,"  he  said,  "  I  am  afraid  there  is  no  doubt 
about  it  that  I  am  most  horribly  in  love  with  another 
woman.  I  have  come  to  London  because  of  her.  It 


94  THE  HILLMAN 

seems  to  me  that  everything  in  life  depends  upon  how 
she  treats  me.  And  yet  — " 

"  And  yet  what?  "  she  asked,  looking  up  at  him  a  lit- 
tle wistfully. 

"  I  feel  that  I  want  to  kiss  you,"  he  confessed. 

"  Well,  if  you  don't  get  it  done  before  the  waiter 
brings  in  those  cocktails,  I  shall  scream ! " 

He  took  her  lightly  in  his  arms  for  a  moment  and 
kissed  her.  Then  she  threw  herself  down  in  the  easy 
chair  and  began  to  laugh  softly. 

"  Oh,  why  didn't  you  come  before  ?  "  she  exclaimed. 
'*  Fancy  Louise  never  telling  me  about  you !  " 

The  waiter  entered  a  few  minutes  later.  He  drew  up 
a  small  round  table  between  them,  placed  the  two  wine- 
glasses upon  it,  and  departed  expeditiously.  John 
took  one  of  the  glasses  over  to  Sophy.  She  accepted 
it  and  gave  him  her  fingers  to  kiss. 

"  Dear  man,"  she  sighed,  "  I  am  getting  much  too 
fond  of  you!  Go  and  sit  in  your  corner,  drink  your 
cocktail,  and  remember  Louise.  I  love  your  rooms,  and 
I  hope  you'll  ask  me  to  lunch  some  time." 

"  I'll  have  a  luncheon  party  to-morrow,  if  you  like  — 
that  is,  if  Louise  will  come." 

She  looked  up  at  him  quickly. 

"  Isn't  Louise  going  to  Paris  ?  "  she  asked. 

He  set  down  the  glass  which  he  had  been  in  the  act  of 
raising  to  his  lips. 

'*  Paris  ?     I  didn't  hear  her  say  anything  about  it." 

**  Perhaps  it  is  my  mistake,  then,"  Sophy  went  on 
hastily.  "  I  only  fancied  that  I  heard  her  say  so." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.  John  had  opened  his 
lips  to  ask  a  question,  but  quickly  closed  them  again. 
It  was  a  question,  he  suddenly  decided,  which  he  had  bet- 
ter ask  of  Louise  herself. 


THE  HILLMAN  95 

**  If  she  does  go,  I  shall  be  very  sorry,"  he  said ;  "  but 
I  do  not  wish,  of  course,  to  upset  her  plans.  We  must 
talk  to  her  about  it  to-night.  I  suppose  we  ought  to  go 
now." 

Sophy  walked  with  him  to  the  door  and  waited  while 
he  took  his  hat  and  gloves  from  the  hat-stand.  Sud- 
denly she  laid  her  hand  upon  his  arm. 

"  If  Louise  goes  to  Paris,"  she  whispered  discon- 
solately, "  I  suppose  there  will  be  no  luncheon-party?  " 

For  a  single  moment  he  hesitated.  She  was  very  al- 
luring, and  the  challenge  in  her  eyes  was  unmistakable. 

"  I  think,"  he  said  quietly,  "  that  if  Miss  Maurel  goes 
to  Paris,  I  shall  return  to  Cumberland  to-morrow." 

He  opened  the  door,  and  Sophy  passed  out  before  him. 
She  had  dropped  her  veil. 

They  drove  down  the  Strand  toward  Knightsbridge. 
For  a  time  there  was  a  significant  silence.  Then  Sophy 
raised  her  veil  once  more  and  looked  toward  John. 

'*  Mr.  Strangewey,"  she  began,  "  you  won't  mind  if 
I  give  you  just  a  little  word  of  advice?  You  are  such  a 
big,  strong  person,  but  you  are  rather  a  child,  you  know, 
in  some  things." 

"  This  place  does  make  me  feel  ignorant,"  he  ad- 
mitted. 

"  Don't  idealize  any  one  here,"  she  begged.  "  Don't 
concentrate  all  your  hopes  upon  one  object.  Love  is 
wonderful  and  life  is  wonderful,  but  there  is  only  one  life, 
and  there  are  many  loves  before  one  reaches  the  end. 
People  do  such  silly  things  sometimes,"  she  wound  up, 
**  just  because  of  a  little  disappointment.  There  are 
many  disappointments  to  be  met  with  here." 

He  took  her  hand  in  his. 

"  Little  girl,"  he  said,  *'  you  are  very  good  to  me,  and 


96  THE  HILLMAN 

I  think  you  understand.  Are  you  going  to  let  me  feel 
that  I  have  found  a  friend  on  my  first  evening  in  Lon- 
don?" 

"  If  you  want  me,"  she  answered  simply.  "  I  like 
you,  and  I  want  you  to  be  happy  here ;  and  because  I 
want  you  to  be  happy,  I  want  you  to  come  down  from 
the  clouds  and  remember  that  you  have  left  your  hills 
behind  and  that  we  walk  on  the  pavements  here." 

"  Thank  you,"  he  whispered,  "  and  thank  you  for 
what  you  have  not  said.  If  I  am  to  find  sorrow  here  in- 
stead of  joy,"  he  added,  a  little  grimly,  "it  is  better 
for  me  to  stumble  into  the  knowledge  of  it  by  myself." 

"Your  hills  have  taught  you  just  that  much  of  life, 
i;hen?  "  Sophy  murmured. 


The  Prince  of  Seyre  handed  his  hat  and  stick  to  the 
parlor  maid  and  seated  himself  upon  the  divan. 

"  I  should  be  very  sorry,"  he  said  politely,  as  the  maid 
left  the  room,  "  if  my  coming  has  hastened  the  depar- 
ture of  your  visitors." 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  Louise  assured  him.  "  They 
were  leaving  when  you  were  announced.  Sophy  and  I 
are  taking  Mr.  Strangewey  to  a  Bohemian  restaurant 
and  a  music-hall  afterward." 

"  Fortunate  Mr.  Strangewey ! "  the  prince  sighed. 
"  But,  forgive  me,  why  not  a  more  dignified  form  of  en- 
tertainment for  his  first  evening?  " 

"  The  poor  man  has  no  clothes,"  Louise  explained. 
*'  He  came  to  London  quite  unexpectedly." 

"  No  clothes  ?  "  the  prince  repeated.  "  It  is  a  long 
journey  to  take  in  such  a  fashion.  A  matter  of  urgent 
business,  perhaps  ?  " 

Louise  shrugged  her  shoulders.  She  had  risen  to  her 
feet  and  was  busy  rearranging  some  roses  in  the  bowl 
by  her  side. 

"  Mr.  Strangewey  has  just  come  into  a  large  fortune, 
as  you  know,"  he  said.  "  Probably  there  are  many 
things  to  be  attended  to." 

The  prince  made  no  further  comment.  He  drew  a 
tortoise-shell-and-gold  cigarette-case  from  his  pocket. 

"  It  is  permitted  that  one  smokes  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  It  is  always  permitted  to  you,"  was  the  gracious 
reply. 


98  THE  HILLMAN 

*'  One  of  my  privileges,"  he  remarked,  as  he  blew  out 
the  match ;  "  in  fact,  almost  my  only  privilege." 

She  glanced  up,  but  her  eyes  fell  before  his. 

"Is  that  quite  fair?" 

"  I  should  be  grieved  to  do  anything  or  to  say  any- 
thing to  you  that  was  not  entirely  fair." 

She  crushed  one  of  the  roses  to  pieces  suddenly  in  her 
hands  and  shook  the  petals  from  her  long,  nervous 
fingers. 

"  To-day,"  she  said,  "  this  afternoon  —  now  —  you 
have  come  to  me  with  something  in  your  mind,  something 
you  wish  to  say,  something  you  are  not  sure  how  to  say. 
That  is,  you  see,  what  Henri  Graillot  calls  my  intuition. 
Even  you,  who  keep  all  your  feelings  under  a  mask,  can 
conceal  very  little  from  me." 

"  My  present  feelings,"  the  prince  declared,  "  I  do 
not  wish  to  conceal.  I  would  like  you  to  know  them. 
But  as  words  are  sometimes  clumsy,  I  would  like,  if  it 
were  possible,  to  let  you  see  into  my  heart,  or,  in  these 
days,  shall  I  not  say  my  consciousness?  I  should 
feel,  then,  that  without  fear  of  misunderstanding  you 
would  know  certain  things  which  I  would  like  you  to 
know." 

She  came  over  and  seated  herself  by  his  side  on  the 
divan.  She  even  laid  her  hand  upon  his  arm. 

"  Eugene,"  she  expostulated,  "  we  are  too  old  friends 
to  talk  always  in  veiled  phrases.  There  is  something 
you  have  to  say  to  me.  I  am  listening." 

"  You  know  what  it  is,"  he  told  her. 

"  You  are  displeased  because  I  have  changed  my 
mind  about  that  little  journey  of  ours?" 

"  I  am  bitterly  disappointed,"  he  admitted. 

She  looked  at  him  curiously  and  then  down  at  her 
rose-stained  fingers. 


THE  HILLMAN  99 

**  That  does  not  sound  quite  like  you,"  she  said. 
**  And  yet  I  ought  to  know  that  sometimes  you  do  feel 
things,  even  though  you  show  it  so  little.  I  am  sorry, 
Eugene." 

"  Why  are  you  sorry  ?  " 

"  Because  I  feel  that  I  cannot  take  that  journey." 

"  You  mean  that  you  cannot  now,  or  that  you  cannot 
at  any  time  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,"  she  answered.  "  You  ask  me  more 
than  I  can  tell  you.  Sometimes  life  seems  so  stable,  a 
thing  one  can  make  a  little  chart  of  and  hang  up  on 
the  wall,  and  put  one's  finger  here  and  there  — *  To-day 
I  will  do  this,  to-morrow  I  will  feel  that ' —  and  the  next 
morning  comes  and  the  chart  is  in  the  fire.  I  wish  I 
understood  myself  a  little  better,  Eugene ! " 

"  Self-understanding  is  the  rarest  of  all  gifts,"  the 
prince  remarked.  "  It  is  left  for  those  who  love  us 
to  understand  us." 

"And  you?" 

"  I  believe  that  I  understand  you  better,  far  better, 
than  you  understand  yourself,"  he  declared.  "  That 
is  why  I  also  believe  that  I  am  necessary  to  you.  I  can 
prevent  your  making  mistakes." 

"  Then  prevent  me,"  she  begged.  "  Something  has 
happened,  and  the  chart  is  in  the  fire  to-day." 

"  You  have  only,"  he  said,  "  to  give  your  maid  her 
orders,  to  give  me  this  little  hand,  and  I  will  draw  out  a 
fresh  one  which  shall  direct  to  the  place  in  life  which 
is  best  for  you.  It  is  not  too  late." 

She  rose  from  beside  him  and  walked  toward  the  fire- 
place, as  if  to  touch  the  bell.  He  watched  her  with 
steady  eyes  but  expressionless  face.  There  was  some- 
thing curious  about  her  walk.  The  spring  had  gone 
from  her  feet,  her  shoulders  were  a  little  hunched.  It 


loo  THE  HILLMAN 

was  the  walk  of  a  woman  who  goes  toward  the  things 
she  fears. 

"  Stop !  "  he  bade  her. 

She  turned  and  faced  him,  quickly,  almost  eagerly. 
There  was  a  look  in  her  face  of  the  prisoner  who  finds 
respite. 

"  Leave  the  bell  alone,"  he  directed.  "  My  own 
plans  are  changed.  I  do  not  wish  to  leave  London  this 
week." 

Her  face  was  suddenly  brilliant,  her  eyes  shone. 
Something  electric  seemed  to  quiver  through  her  frame. 
She  almost  danced  back  to  her  place  by  his  side. 

"  How  foolish !  "  she  murmured.  "  Why  didn't  you 
say  so  at  once?  " 

"  Because,"  he  replied,  "  they  have  only  been  changed 
during  the  last  few  seconds.  I  wanted  to  discover  some- 
thing which  I  have  discovered." 

"  To  discover  something?  " 

"  That  my  time  has  not  yet  come." 

She  turned  away  from  him.  She  was  oppressed  with 
a  sense  almost  of  fear,  a  feeling  that  he  was  able  to  read 
the  very  thoughts  forming  in  her  brain ;  to  understand, 
as  no  one  else  in  the  world  could  understand,  the  things 
that  lived  in  her  heart. 

"  I  must  not  keep  you,"  he  remarked,  glancing  at  the 
clock.  "  It  was  very  late  for  me  to  call,  and  you  will  be 
"wanting  to  join  your  friends." 

"  They  are  coming  here  for  me,"  she  explained. 
*'  There  is  really  no  hurry  at  all.  We  are  not  changing 
anything.  It  is  to  be  quite  a  simple  evening.  Some- 
times I  wish  that  you  cared  about  things  of  that  sort, 
Eugene." 

He  blew  through  his  lips  a  little  cloud  of  smoke  from 
the  cigarette  which  he  had  just  lit. 


THE  HILLMAN  101 

(t  I  do  not  fancy,"  he  replied,  "  that  I  should  be  much 
of  a  success  as  a  fourth  in  your  little  expedition." 

"  But  it  is  silly  of  you  not  to  visit  Bohemia  occasion- 
ally," she  declared,  ignoring  the  meaning  that  lay  be- 
neath his  words.  "  It  is  refreshing  to  rub  shoulders 
with  people  who  feel,  and  who  show  freely  what  they 
feel;  to  eat  their  food,  drink  their  wine,  even  join  in 
their  pleasures." 

The  prince  shook  his  head. 

**  I  am  not  of  the  people,"  he  said,  "  and  I  have  no 
sympathy  with  them.  I  detest  the  bourgeoisie  of  every 
country  in  the  world  —  my  own  more  particularly." 

"  If  you  only  knew  how  strangely  that  sounds ! "  she 
murmured. 

"Does  it?"  he  answered.  "You  should  read  my 
family  history,  read  of  the  men  and  women  of  my  race 
who  were  butchered  at  the  hands  of  that  drunken,  lust- 
ful mob  whom  lying  historians  have  glorified.  I  am  one 
of  those  who  do  not  forget  injuries.  My  estates  are  ad- 
ministered more  severely  than  any  others  in  France. 
No  penny  of  my  money  has  ever  been  spent  in  charity. 
I  neither  forget  nor  forgive." 

She  laughed  a  little  nervously. 

"  What  an  unsympathetic  person  you  can  be, 
Eugene ! " 

"  And  for  that  very  reason,"  he  replied,  "  I  can  be 
sympathetic.  Because  I  hate  some  people,  I  have  the 
power  of  loving  others.  Because  it  pleases  me  to  deal 
severely  with  my  enemies,  it  gives  me  joy  to  deal  gen- 
erously with  my  friends.  That  is  my  conception  of  life. 
May  I  wish  you  a  pleasant  evening?  " 

"  You  are  going  now  ? "  she  asked,  a  little  sur- 
prised. 

He  smiled  faintly  as  he  raised  her  fingers  to  his  lips. 


102  THE  HILLMAN 

She  had  made  a  little  movement  toward  him,  but  he  took 
no  advantage  of  it. 

"  I  am  going  now." 

"  When  shall  I  see  you  again?  "  she  inquired,  as  she 
came  back  from  ringing  the  bell. 

"  A  telephone-message  from  your  maid,  a  line  written 
with  your  own  fingers,"  he  said,  "  will  bring  me  to  you 
within  a  few  minutes.  If  I  hear  nothing,  I  may  come 
uninvited,  but  it  will  be  when  the  fancy  takes  me.  Once 
more,  Louise,  a  pleasant  evening !  " 

He  passed  out  of  the  door,  which  the  parlor  maid 
was  holding  open  for  him.  Crossing  to  the  window, 
Louise  watched  him  leave  the  house  and  enter  his  wait- 
ing automobile.  He  gave  no  sign  of  haste  or  disap- 
pointment. He  lit  another  cigarette  deliberately  upon 
the  pavement  and  gave  his  orders  to  the  chauffeur  with 
some  care. 

As  the  car  drove  off  without  his  having  once  glanced 
up  at  the  window,  she  shivered  a  little.  There  was  a 
silence  which,  it  seemed  to  her,  could  be  more  minatory 
even  than  accusation. 


XI 

The  little  room  was  gaudily  decorated  and  redolent 
with  the  lingering  odors  of  many  dinners.  Yet  Louise, 
who  had  dined  on  the  preceding  evening  at  the  Ritz  and 
been  bored,  whose  taste  in  food  and  environment  was  al- 
most hypercritical,  was  perfectly  happy.  She  found 
the  cuisine  and  the  Chianti  excellent. 

"  We  are  outstaying  every  one  else,"  she  declared ; 
**  and  I  don't  even  mind  their  awful  legacy  of  tobacco- 
smoke.  Do  you  see  that  the  waiter  has  brought  you  the 
bill,  Mr.  Strangewey?  Prepare  for  a  shock.  It  is  for- 
tunate that  you  are  a  millionaire !  " 

John  laughed  as  he  paid  the  bill  and  ludicrously  over- 
tipped  the  waiter. 

"  London  must  be  a  paradise  to  the  poor  man ! "  he 
exclaimed.  "  I  have  never  dined  better." 

"  Don't  overdo  it,"  Sophy  begged. 

"  I  can  only  judge  by  results,"  John  insisted.  *'  I 
have  dined,  and  I  am  happy ;  therefore,  the  dinner  must 
have  been  good." 

"  You  are  so  convincing ! "  Sophy  murmured. 
"  There  is  such  a  finality  about  your  statements  that  I 
would  not  venture  to  dispute  them.  But  remember  that 
your  future  entertainment  is  in  the  hands  of  two  women, 
one  of  whom  is  a  deserving  but  struggling  young  artist 
without  the  means  of  gratifying  her  expensive  tastes. 
There  are  heaps  of  places  we  are  going  to  take  you  to 
which  even  Louise  pretends  she  cannot  afford.  It  is  so 
fortunate,  Mr.  Strangewey,  that  you  are  rich ! " 


104  THE  HILLMAN 

**I  believe  you  would  be  just  as  nice  to  me  if  I 
weren't,"  John  ventured. 

"  I  am  so  susceptible ! "  Sophy  sighed,  looking  into 
her  empty  coffee-cup ;  "  much  more  susceptible  than 
Louise." 

"  I  won't  have  Mr.  Strangewey  spoiled,"  Louise  put 
in.  "  And  don't  build  too  much  upon  his  being  content 
with  us  as  entertainers-in-chief.  Remember  the  half- 
penny papers.  In  a  few  days  he  will  be  interviewed  — 
*  Millionaire  Farmer  Come  to  London  to  Spend  His 
Fortune.'  He  will  become  famous.  He  will  buy  a 
green  morocco  engagement-book,  and  perhaps  employ  a 
secretary.  We  shall  probably  have  to  ask  ourselves  to 
luncheon  three  weeks  ahead." 

"  I  feel  these  things  coming,"  John  declared. 

"  My  children,"  said  Louise,  rising,  "  we  must  re- 
member that  we  are  going  to  the  Palace.  It  is  quite 
time  we  started." 

They  made  their  way  down  two  flights  of  narrow 
stairs  into  the  street.  The  commissionnaire  raised  his 
whistle  to  his  lips,  but  Louise  stopped  him. 

"  We  will  walk,"  she  suggested.  *'  This  way,  Mr. 
Strangewey ! " 

They  passed  down  the  long,  narrow  street,  with  its 
dingy  foreign  cafes  and  shops  scarcely  one  of  which 
seemed  to  be  English.  The  people  who  thronged  the 
pavements  were  of  a  new  race  to  John,  swarthy,  a  little 
furtive,  a  class  of  foreigner  seldom  seen  except  in  alien 
lands.  Men  and  women  in  all  stages  of  dishabille  were 
leaning  out  of  the  windows  or  standing  on  the  door- 
steps. The  girls  whom  they  met  occasionally  —  young 
women  of  all  ages,  walking  arm  in  arm,  with  shawls  on 
their  heads  in  place  of  hats  —  laughed  openly  in  John's 
face. 


THE  HILLMAN  105 

"  Conquests  everywhere  he  goes ! "  Louise  sighed. 
"  We  shall  never  keep  him,  Sophy !  " 

"  We  have  him  for  this  evening,  at  any  rate,"  Sophy 
replied  contentedly ;  "  and  he  hasn't  spent  all  his  for- 
tune yet.  I  am  not  at  all  sure  that  I  shall  not  hint  at 
supper  when  we  come  out  of  the  Palace." 

"  No  hint  will  be  necessary,"  John  promised.  **  I  feel 
the  gnawings  of  hunger  already." 

"  A  millionaire's  first  night  in  London !  "  Sophy  ex- 
claimed. "  I  think  I  shall  write  it  up  for  the  Daily 
Mail." 

"A  pity  he  fell  into  bad  hands  so  quickly,"  Louise 
laughed.  "  Here  we  are !  Stalls,  please,  Mr.  Million- 
aire. I  wouldn't  be  seen  to-night  in  the  seats  of  the 
mighty." 

John  risked  a  reproof,  however,  and  was  fortunate 
enough  to  find  a  disengaged  box. 

"  The  tone  of  the  evening,"  Louise  grumbled,  as  she 
settled  herself  down  comfortably,  "  is  lost.  This  is  the 
most  expensive  box  in  the  place." 

"  You  could  restore  it  by  eating  an  orange,"  Sophy 
suggested. 

"  Or  even  chocolates,"  John  ventured,  sweeping  most 
of  the  contents  of  an  attendant's  tray  onto  the  ledge  of 
the  box. 

"  After  this,"  Sophy  declared,  falling  upon  them, 
^*  supper  will  be  a  farce." 

"  Make  you  thirsty,"  John  reminded  her. 

They  devoted  their  attention  to  the  show,  Louise  and 
Sophy  at  first  with  only  a  moderate  amount  of  interest, 
John  with  the  real  enthusiasm  of  one  to  whom  every- 
thing is  new.  His  laughter  was  so  hearty,  his  apprecia- 
tion so  sincere,  that  his  companions  found  it  infectious, 
and  began  to  applaud  everything. 


106  THE  HILLMAN 

"  What  children  we  are ! "  Louise  exclaimed. 
"  Fancy  shrieking  with  laughter  at  a  ventriloquist  whom 
I  have  seen  at  every  music-hall  I  have  been  to  during  the 
last  five  or  six  years !  " 

"  He  was  wonderfully  clever,  all  the  same,"  John  in- 
sisted. 

"  The  bioscope,"  Louise  decided  firmly,  "  I  refuse  to 
have  anything  to  do  with.  You  have  had  all  the  enter- 
tainment you  are  going  to  have  this  evening,  Mr.  Coun- 
tryman." 

"  Now  for  supper,  then,"  he  proposed. 

Sophy  sighed  as  she  collected  the  half-empty  choco- 
late-boxes. 

"  What  a  pity  I've  eaten  so  many !  They'd  have 
saved  me  a  luncheon  to-morrow." 

"  Greedy  child,"  Louise  laughed,  "  sighing  for  want 
of  an  appetite !  I  think  we'll  insist  upon  a  taxi  this 
time.  I  don't  like  overcrowded  streets.  Where  shall 
we  take  him  to,  Sophy?  You  know  the  supper  places 
better  than  I  do." 

"  Luigi's,"  Sophy  declared  firmly.  "  The  only  place 
im  London." 

They  drove  toward  the  Strand.  John  looked  around 
him  with  interest  as  they  entered  the  restaurant. 

"  I've  been  here  before,"  he  said,  as  they  passed 
through  the  doors. 

"  Explain  yourself  at  once,"  Louise  insisted. 

"  It  was  eight  years  ago,  when  I  was  at  Oxford,"  he 
told  them.  "  We  were  here  on  the  boat-race  night.  I 
remember,"  he  added  reminiscently,  "  that  some  of  us 
were  turned  out.  Then  we  went  on  to  — " 

"  Stop !  "  Louise  interrupted  sternly.  "  I  am  horri- 
fied! The  one  thing  I  did  not  suspect  you  of,  Mr. 
Strangewey,  was  a  past." 


THE  HILLMAN  107 

"  Well,  it  isn't  a  very  lurid  one,"  he  assured  them. 
"  That  was  very  nearly  the  only  evening  about  town 
I  have  ever  been  guilty  of." 

Luigi,  who  had  come  forward  to  welcome  Sophy,  es- 
corted them  to  one  of  the  best  tables. 

"  You  must  be  very  nice  to  this  gentleman,  Luigi," 
she  said.  "  He  is  a  very  great  friend  of  mine,  just  ar- 
rived in  London.  He  has  come  up  on  purpose  to  see 
me,  and  we  shall  probably  decide  to  make  this  our  favor- 
ite restaurant." 

"  I  shall  be  vairy  happy,"  Luigi  declared,  with  a  bow. 

"  I  am  beginning  to  regret,  Mr.  Strangewey,  that  I 
ever  introduced  you  to  Sophy,"  Louise  remarked,  as  she 
sank  back  into  her  chair.  "  You  won't  believe  that  all 
my  friends  are  as  frivolous  as  this,  will  you  ?  " 

"  They  aren't,"  Sophy  proclaimed  confidently.  "  I 
am  the  one  person  who  succeeds  in  keeping  Louise  with 
her  feet  upon  the  earth.  She  has  never  had  supper  here 
before.  Dry  biscuits,  hot  milk,  and  a  volume  of  poems 
are  her  relaxation  after  the  theater.  She  takes  herself 
too  seriously." 

"  I  wonder  if  I  do !  "  Louise  murmured,  as  she  helped 
herself  to  caviar. 

She  was  suddenly  pensive.  Her  eyes  seemed  to  be 
looking  out  of  the  restaurant.  Sophy  was  exchanging 
amenities  with  a  little  party  of  friends  at  the  next  table. 

"  One  must  sometimes  be  serious,"  John  remarked, 
"  or  life  would  have  no  poise  at  all." 

"  I  have  a  friend  who  scolds  me,"  she  confided. 
'*  Sometimes  he  almost  loses  patience  with  me.  He  de- 
clares that  my  attitude  toward  life  is  too  analytical. 
When  happiness  comes  my  way,  I  shrink  back.  I  keep 
my  emotions  in  the  background,  while  my  brain  works, 
dissecting,  wondering,  speculating.  Perhaps  what  he 


io8  THE  HILLMAN 

says  is  true.  I  believe  that  if  one  gets  into  the  habit 
of  analyzing  too  much,  one  loses  all  elasticity  of  emo- 
tion, the  capacity  to  recognize  and  embrace  the  great 
things  when  they  come." 

"  1  think  you  have  been  right,"  John  declared  ear- 
nestly. "  If  the  great  things  come  as  they  should 
come,  they  are  overwhelming,  they  will  carry  you  off 
your  feet.  You  will  forget  to  speculate  and  to  analyze. 
Therefore,  I  think  you  have  been  wise  and  right  to  wait. 
You  have  run  no  risk  of  having  to  put  up  with  the  les- 
ser things.'* 

She  leaned  toward  him  across  the  rose-shaded  table. 
For  those  few  seconds  they  seemed  to  have  been  brought 
into  a  wonderfully  intimate  communion  of  thought.  A 
wave  of  her  hair  almost  touched  his  forehead.  His 
hand  boldly  rested  upon  her  fingers. 

"  You  talk,"  she  whispered,  "  as  if  we  were  back  upon 
your  hilltops  once  more ! " 

He  turned  his  head  toward  the  little  orchestra,  which 
was  playing  a  low  and  tremulous  waltz  tune. 

"  I  want  to  believe,"  he  said,  "  that  you  can  listen  to 
the  music  here  and  yet  live  upon  the  hilltops." 

"  You  believe  that  it  is  possible  ?  " 

"  I  do  indeed,"  he  assured  her.  "  Although  my  heart 
was  almost  sick  with  loneliness,  I  do  not  think  that  I 
should  be  here  if  I  did  not  believe  it.  I  have  not  come 
for  anything  else,  for  any  lesser  things,  but  to  find  — " 

For  once  his  courage  failed  him.  For  once,  too,  he 
failed  to  understand  her  expression.  She  had  drawn 
back  a  little,  her  lips  were  quivering.  Sophy  broke 
suddenly  in  upon  that  moment  of  suspended  speech. 

"  I  knew  how  it  would  be !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  I  leave 
you  both  alone  for  less  than  a  minute,  and  there  you  sit, 
as  grave  as  two  owls.  I  ask  you,  now,  is  this  the  place 


THE  HILLMAN  109 

to  wander  off  into  the  clouds?  When  two  people  sit 
looking  at  each  other  as  you  were  doing  a  minute  ago, 
here  in  Luigi's,  at  midnight,  with  champagne  in  their 
glasses,  and  a  supper,  ordered  regardless  of  expense,  on 
the  table  before  them,  they  are  either  without  the  least 
sense  of  the  fitness  of  things,  or  else  — " 

"  Or  else  what?  "  Louise  asked. 

"  Or  else  they  are  head  over  heels  in  love  with  each 
other!"  Sophy  concluded. 

"  Perhaps  the  child  is  right,"  Louise  assented  toler- 
antly, taking  a  peach  from  the  basket  by  her  side. 
"  Evidently  it  is  our  duty  to  abandon  ourselves  to  the 
frivolity  of  the  moment.  What  shall  we  do  to  bring 
ourselves  into  accord  with  it?  Everybody  seems  to  be 
behaving  most  disgracefully.  Do  you  think  it  would 
contribute  to  the  gaiety  of  the  evening  if  I  were  to  join 
in  the  chorus  of  'You  Made  Me  Love  You,'  and  Mr. 
Strangewey  were  to  imitate  the  young  gentleman  at  the 
next  table  and  throw  a  roll,  say,  at  that  portly  old 
gentleman  with  the  highly  polished  shirt-front  ?  " 

"  There  is  no  need  to  go  to  extremes,"  Sophy  pro- 
tested. "  Besides,  we  should  get  into  trouble.  The 
portly  old  gentleman  happens  to  be  one  of  the  di- 
rectors." 

"  Then  we  will  just  talk  nonsense,"  Louise  suggested. 

"  I  am  not  very  good  at  it,"  John  sighed ;  "  and  there 
Is  so  much  I  want  to  say  that  isn't  nonsense." 

"  You  ought  to  be  thankful  all  your  life  that  you  have 
met  me  and  that  I  am  disposed  to  take  an  interest  in 
you,"  Sophy  remarked,  as  she  moved  her  chair  a  little 
nearer  to  John's.  "I  am  quite  sure  that  in  a  very 
short  time  you  would  have  become  —  well,  almost  a  prig. 
Providence  has  selected  me  to  work  out  your  salvation.'* 

"  Providence  has  been  very  kind,  then,"  John  told  her.. 


no  THE  HILLMAN 

"  I  hope  you  mean  it,"  she  returned.  "  You  ought 
to,  if  you  only  understood  the  importance  of  light-heart- 
edness." 

The  lights  were  lowered  a  few  minutes  later,  and  John 
paid  the  bill. 

"  We've  enjoyed  our  supper,"  Louise  whispered,  as 
they  passed  down  the  room.  *'  The  whole  evening  has 
been  delightful ! " 

"  May  I  drive  you  home  alone  ?  "  he  asked  bluntly. 

"I  am  afraid  we  can't  desert  Sophy,"  she  replied, 
avoiding  his  eyes.  "  She  nearly  always  goes  home  with 
me.  You  see,  although  she  seems  quite  a  frivolous  lit- 
tle person,  she  is  really  very  useful  to  me  —  keeps  my 
accounts,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing." 

"And  does  her  best,"  Sophy  joined  in,  "  to  protect 
you  against  your  ruinously  extravagant  habits ! " 

Louise  laughed.  They  were  standing  in  the  little 
hall,  and  the  commissionnaire  was  blowing  his  whistle 
for  a  taxi. 

"  I  won't  be  scolded  to-night,"  she  declared.  "  Come, 
you  shall  both  of  you  drive  home  with  me,  and  then  Mr. 
Strangewey  can  drop  you  at  your  rooms  on  his  way 
back." 

Sophy  made  a  little  grimace  and  glanced  up  at  John 
anxiously.  He  was  looking  very  big  and  very  grim. 

"  Shall  you  mind  that  ?  "  she  asked. 

A  slight  plaintiveness  in  her  tone  dispelled  his  first 
disappointment.  After  all,  it  was  Louise's  decision. 

"  I  will  try  to  bear  it  cheerfully,"  he  promised,  smil- 
ing, as  he  handed  them  into  the  cab. 


XII 

As  they  drove  from  Luigi's  to  Knightsbridge,  Louise 
leaned  back  in  her  corner.  Although  her  eyes  were 
only  half  closed,  there  was  an  air  of  aloofness  about  her, 
an  obvious  lack  of  desire  for  conversation,  which  the 
others  found  themselves  instinctively  respecting.  Even 
Sophy's  light-hearted  chatter  seemed  to  have  deserted 
her,  somewhat  to  John's  relief. 

He  sat  back  in  his  place,  his  eyes  fixed  upon  Louise. 
He  was  so  anxious  to  understand  her  in  all  her  moods 
and  vagaries.  He  was  forced  to  admit  to  himself  that 
she  had  deliberately  chosen  not  to  take  any  portion  of 
that  drive  home  alone  with  him.  And  yet,  as  he  looked 
back  through  the  evening,  he  told  himself  that  he  was 
satisfied.  He  declined  to  feel  even  a  shadow  of  discour- 
agement. 

After  a  time  he  withdrew  his  eyes  from  her  face  and 
looked  out  upon  the  human  panorama  through  which 
they  were  passing. 

They  were  in  the  very  vortex  of  London's  midnight 
traffic.  The  night  was  warm  for  the  time  of  year,  and 
about  Leicester  Square  and  beyond  the  pavements  were 
crowded  with  pedestrians,  the  women  lightly  and  gaily 
clad,  flitting,  notwithstanding  some  sinister  note  about 
their  movements,  like  butterflies  or  bright-hued  moths 
along  the  pavements  and  across  the  streets.  The  pro- 
cession of  taxicabs  and  automobiles,  each  with  its  human 


112  THE  HILLMAN 

freight  of  men  and  women  in  evening  dress  on  their  way 
home  after  an  evening's  pleasure,  seemed  endless. 

Presently  Sophy  began  to  talk,  and  Louise,  too, 
housed  herself. 

"  I  am  only  just  beginning  to  realize,"  the  latter  said, 
*'  that  you  are  actually  in  London." 

"  When  I  leave  you,"  he  replied,  "  I,  too,  shall  find  it 
hard  to  believe  that  we  have  actually  met  again  and 
talked.  There  seems  to  be  so  much  that  I  have  to  say," 
he  added,  looking  at  her  closely,  "  and  I  have  said  noth- 
ing." 

"  There  is  plenty  of  time,"  she  told  him,  and  once 
more  the  signs  of  that  slight  nervousness  were  apparent 
in  her  manner.  "  There  are  weeks  and  months  ahead 
of  us." 

"  When  shall  I  see  you  again  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Whenever  you  like.  There  are  no  rehearsals  for 
a  day  or  two.  Ring  me  up  on  the  telephone  —  you  will 
find  my  number  in  the  book  —  or  come  and  lunch  with 
me  to-morrow,  if  you  like." 

"Thank  you,"  he  answered;  "that  is  just  what  I 
should  like.  At  what  time?" 

"  Half  past  one.  I  will  not  ask  either  of  you  to  come 
in  now.  You  can  come  down  to-morrow  morning  and 
get  the  books,  Sophy.  I  think  I  am  tired  —  tired,"  she 
added,  with  a  curious  little  note  of  self-pity  in  her  tone. 
"  I  am  very  glad  to  have  seen  you  again,  Mr.  Strange- 
wey,"  she  said,  lifting  her  eyes  to  his.  "  Good  night !  " 

He  helped  her  out,  rang  the  bell,  and  watched  her 
•vanish  through  the  swiftly  opened  door.  Then  he 
stepped  back  into  the  taxicab.  Sophy  retreated  into 
the  corner  to  make  room  for  him. 

"  You  are  going  to  take  me  home,  are  you  not?  "  she 
asked. 


THE  HILLMAN  113 

"  Of  course,"  he  replied,  his  eyes  still  fixed  with  a 
shade  of  regret  upon  the  closed  door  of  Louise's  little 
house.  "  No.  10  Southampton  Street,"  he  told  the 
driver. 

They  turned  round  and  spun  once  more  into  the  net- 
work of  moving  vehicles  and  streaming  pedestrians. 
John  was  silent,  and  his  companion,  for  a  little  while, 
humored  him.  Soon,  however,  she  touched  him  on  the 
arm. 

"  This  is  still  your  first  night  in  London,"  she  re- 
minded him,  "  and  there  is  to-morrow.  You  are  going 
to  lunch  with  her  to-morrow.  Won't  you  talk  to  me, 
please  ? " 

He  shut  the  door  upon  a  crowd  of  disturbing 
thoughts  and  fantastic  imaginings,  and  smiled  back  at 
her.  Her  fingers  remained  upon  his  arm.  A  queer 
gravity  had  come  into  her  dainty  little  face. 

"  Are  you  really  in  love  with  Louise  ?  "  she  inquired, 
with  something  of  his  own  directness. 

He  answered  her  with  perfect  seriousness. 

"  I  believe  so,"  he  admitted,  "  but  I  should  not  like 
to  say  that  I  am  absolutely  certain.  I  have  come  here 
to  find  out." 

Sophy  suddenly  rocked  with  laughter. 

"  You  are  the  dearest,  queerest  madman  I  have  ever 
met ! "  she  exclaimed,  holding  tightly  to  his  arm. 
"  You  sit  there  with  a  face  as  long  as  a  fiddle,  wondering 
whether  you  are  in  love  with  a  girl  or  not !  Well,  I  am 
not  going  to  ask  you  anything  more.  Tell  me,  are  you 
tired?" 

"  Not  a  bit,"  he  declared.  "  I  never  had  such  a  rip- 
ping evening  in  my  life." 

She  held  his  arm  a  little  tighter.  She  was  the  old 
Sophy  again,  full  of  life  and  gaiety. 


ii4  THE  HILLMAN 

"  Let's  go  to  the  Aldwych,"  she  suggested,  "  and  see 
the  dancing.  We  can  just  have  something  to  drink. 
We  needn't  have  any  more  supper." 

"  Rather !  "  he  assented  readily.  "  But  where  is  it, 
and  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  Just  a  supper  club,"  she  told  him.  "  Tell  the  man 
No.  19  Kean  Street.  What  fun !  I  haven't  been  there 
for  weeks." 

"  What  about  my  clothes  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  You'll  be  all  right,"  she  assured  him.  "  You're 
quite  a  nice-looking  person,  and  the  manager  is  a  friend 
of  mine." 

The  cab  stopped  a  few  minutes  later  outside  what 
seemed  to  be  a  private  house  except  for  the  presence  of 
a  commissionnaire  upon  the  pavement.  The  door  was 
opened  at  once,  and  John  was  relieved  of  his  hat  and 
stick  by  a  cloak-room  attendant.  Sophy  wrote  his 
name  in  a  book,  and  they  were  ushered  by  the  manager, 
who  had  come  forward  to  greet  them,  into  a  long  room, 
brilliantly  lit,  and  filled,  except  in  the  center,  with  sup- 
per-tables. 

They  selected  one  near  the  wall  and  close  to  the  open 
space  in  which,  at  the  present  moment,  a  man  and  a 
woman  were  dancing.  The  floor  was  of  hardwood,  and 
there  was  a  little  raised  platform  for  the  orchestra. 
John  looked  around  him  wonderingly.  The  popping 
of  champagne  corks  was  almost  incessant.  A  slightly 
voluptuous  atmosphere  of  cigarette-smoke,  mingled 
with  the  perfumes  shaken  from  the  clothes  and  hair 
of  the  women,  several  more  of  whom  were  now  danc- 
ing, hung  about  the  place.  A  girl  in  fancy  dress 
was  passing  a  great  basket  of  flowers  from  table  to 
table. 

Sophy  sat  with  her  head  resting  upon  her  hands  and 


THE  HILLMAN  115 

her  face  very  close  to  her  companion's,  keeping  time 
with  her  feet  to  the  music. 

"Isn't  this  rather  nice?"  she  whispered.  "Do  you 
like  being  here  with  me,  Mr.  John  Strangewey?  " 

"  Of  course  I  do,"  he  answered  heartily.  "  Is  this  a 
restaurant?  " 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  No,  it's  a  club.  We  can  sit  here  all  night,  if  you 
like." 

"Can  I  join?  "he  asked. 

She  laughed  as  she  bent  for  a  form  and  made  him  fill 
it  in. 

"  Tell  me,"  he  begged,  as  he  looked  around  him,  "  who 
are  these  girls?  They  look  so  pretty  and  well  dressed, 
and  yet  so  amazingly  young  to  be  out  at  this  time  of 
night." 

"  Mostly  actresses,"  she  replied,  "  and  musical-com- 
edy girls.  I  was  in  musical  comedy  myself  before  Lou- 
ise rescued  me." 

"Did  you  like  it?" 

"  I  liked  it  all  right,"  she  admitted,  "  but  I  left  it  be- 
cause I  wasn't  doing  any  good.  I  can  dance  pretty 
well,  but  I  have  no  voice,  so  there  didn't  seem  to  be  any 
chance  of  my  getting  out  of  the  chorus ;  and  one  can't 
even  pretend  to  live  on  the  salary  they  pay  you,  unless 
one  has  a  part." 

"  But  these  girls  who  are  here  to-night  ?  " 

"  They  are  with  their  friends,  of  course,"  she  told 
him.  "  I  suppose,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Louise,  I  should 
have  been  here,  too  —  with  a  friend." 

"  I  should  like  to  see  you  dance,"  he  remarked,  in  a 
hurry  to  change  the  conversation. 

"  I'll  dance  to  you  some  day  in  your  rooms,  if  you 
like,"  she  promised.  "  Or  would  you  like  me  to  dance 


n6  THE  HILLMAN 

here?  There  is  a  man  opposite  who  wants  me  to. 
Would  you  rather  I  didn't?  I  want  to  do  just  which 
would  please  you  most." 

"  Dance,  by  all  means,"  he  insisted.  "  I  should  like 
to  watch  you." 

She  nodded,  and  a  minute  or  two  later  she  had  joined 
the  small  crowd  in  the  center  of  the  room,  clasped  in 
the  arms  of  a  very  immaculate  young  man  who  had  risen 
and  bowed  to  her  from  a  table  opposite.  John  leaned 
back  in  his  place  and  watched  her  admiringly.  Her 
feet  scarcely  touched  the  ground.  She  never  once 
glanced  at  or  spoke  to  her  partner,  but  every  time  she 
passed  the  corner  where  John  was  sitting,  she  looked  at 
him  and  smiled. 

He,  for  his  part,  watched  her  no  longer  with  pleas- 
ant interest,  but  with  almost  fascinated  eyes.  The 
spirit  of  the  place  was  creeping  into  his  blood.  His 
long  years  of  seclusion  seemed  like  a  spell  of  time  lying 
curiously  far  away,  a  crude  period,  mislived  in  an  at- 
mosphere which,  notwithstanding  its  austere  sweetness, 
took  no  account  of  the  human  cry.  He  refilled  his  glass 
with  champagne  and  deliberately  drank  its  contents. 
It  was  splendid  to  feel  so  young  and  strong,  to  feel  the 
wine  in  his  veins,  his  pulse  and  his  heart  moving  to  this 
new  measure ! 

His  eyes  grew  brighter,  and  he  smiled  back  at  Sophy. 
She  suddenly  released  her  hold  upon  her  partner  and 
stretched  out  her  arms  to  him.  Her  body  swayed  back- 
ward a  little.  She  waved  her  hands  with  a  gesture  in- 
finitely graceful,  subtly  alluring.  Her  lips  were  parted 
with  a  smile  almost  of  triumph  as  she  once  more  rested 
her  hand  upon  her  partner's  shoulder. 

"  Who  is  your  escort  this  evening?  "  the  latter  asked 
feer,  speaking  almost  for  the  first  time. 


THE  HILLMAN  117 

"  You  would  not  know  him,"  she  replied.  "  He  is  a 
Mr.  John  Strangewey,  and  he  comes  from  Cumber- 
land." 

"  Just  happens  that  I  do  know  him,"  the  young  man 
remarked.  "  Thought  I'd  seen  his  face  somewhere. 
Used  to  be  up  at  the  varsity  with  him.  We  once  played 
rackets  together.  Hasn't  he  come  into  a  pile  just 
lately?" 

"  An  uncle  in  Australia  left  him  a  fortune." 

"  I'll  speak  to  him  presently,"  the  young  man  de- 
cided. "  Always  make  a  point  of  being  civil  to  any- 
body with  lots  of  oof!" 

"  I  expect  he'll  be  glad  to  meet  you  again,"  Sophy  re- 
marked. "  He  doesn't  know  a  soul  in  town." 

The  dance  was  finished.  They  returned  together  to 
where  John  was  sitting,  and  the  young  man  held  out  a 
weary  hand. 

"  Amerton,  you  know,  of  Magdalen,"  he  said. 
"  You're  Strangewey,  aren't  you  ?  " 

"  Lord  Amerton,  of  course !  "  John  exclaimed.  '*  I 
thought  your  face  was  familiar.  Why,  we  played  in 
the  rackets  doubles  together ! " 

"  And  won  'em,  thanks  to  you,"  Amerton  replied. 
"  Are  you  up  for  long?  " 

"  I  am  not  quite  sure,"  John  told  him.  "  I  only  ar- 
rived last  night." 

"  Look  me  up  some  time,  if  you've  nothing  better  to 
do,"  the  young  man  suggested.  "  Where  are  you  hang- 
ing out  ?  " 

"  The  Milan." 

"  I  am  at  the  Albany.  So-long !  Must  get  back  to 
my  little  lady." 

He  bowed  to  Sophy  and  departed.  She  sank  a  little 
breathlessly  into  her  chair  and  laid  her  hand  on  John's 


n8  THE  HILLMAN 

arm.  Her  cheeks  were  flushed,  her  bosom  was  rising 
and  falling  quickly. 

"J[  am  out  of  breath,"  she  said,  her  head  thrown 
back,  perilously  near  to  John's  shoulder.  "  Lord  Am- 
erton  dances  so  well.  Give  me  some  champagne !  " 

"  And  you  —  you  dance  divinely,"  he  told  her,  as  he 
filled  her  glass. 

"  If  we  were  alone,"  she  whispered,  "  I  should  want 
you  to  kiss  me ! " 

The  stem  of  the  wine-glass  in  John's  fingers  snapped 
suddenly,  and  the  wine  trickled  down  to  the  floor.  A 
passing  waiter  hurried  up  with  a  napkin,  and  a  fresh 
glass  was  brought.  The  affair  was  scarcely  noticed, 
but  John  remained  disturbed  and  a  little  pale. 

"  Have  you  cut  your  hand? "  Sophy  asked  anx- 
iously. 

"  Not  at  all,"  he  assured  her.  "  How  hot  it  is  here ! 
Do  you  mind  if  we  go?  " 

"Go?"  she  exclaimed  disconsolately.  "I  thought 
you  were  enjoying  yourself  so  much !  " 

"  So  I  am,"  he  answered,  "  but  I  don't  quite  under- 
stand — " 

He  paused. 

•"  Understand  what  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  Myself,  if  you  must  know." 

She  set  down  the  glass  which  she  had  been  in  the  act 
of  raising  to  her  lips. 

"  How  queer  you  are ! "  she  murmured.  "  Listen. 
You  haven't  got  a  wife  or  anything  up  in  Cumberland, 
have  you  ?  " 

"  You  know  I  haven't,"  he  answered. 

"  You're  not  engaged  to  be  married,  you  have  no  ties, 
you  came  up  here  perfectly  free,  you  haven't  even  said 
anything  yet  —  to  Louise  ?  " 


THE  HILLMAN  ug 

"  Of  course  not." 

"  Well,  then  — "  she  began. 

Her  words  were  so  softly  spoken  that  they  seemed 
to  melt  away.  She  leaned  forward  to  look  in  his  face. 

"  Sophy,"  he  begged,  with  sudden  and  almost  pas- 
sionate earnestness,  "  be  kind  to  me,  please !  I  am  just 
a  simple,  stupid  countryman,  who  feels  as  if  he  had  lost 
his  way.  I  have  lived  a  solitary  sort  of  life  —  an  un- 
natural one,  you  would  say  * —  and  I've  been  brought  up 
with  some  old-fashioned  ideas.  I  know  they  are  old- 
fashioned,  but  I  can't  throw  them  overboard  all  at  once. 
I  have  kept  away  from  this  sort  of  thing.  I  didn't 
think  it  would  ever  attract  me  —  I  suppose  because  I 
didn't  believe  it  could  be  made  so  attractive.  I  have 
suddenly  found  out  —  that  it  does !  " 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  "  she  whispered. 

"  There  is  only  one  thing  for  me  to  do,"  he  answered. 
w  Until  I  know  what  I  have  come  to  London  to  learn,  I 
shall  fight  against  it." 

"  You  mean  about  Louise  ?  " 

"  I  mean  about  Louise,"  he  said  gravely. 

Sophy  came  still  closer  to  him.  Her  voice  was  as 
soft  as  the  lightest,  finest  note  of  music,  trembling  a  lit- 
tle with  that  one  thread  of  passion.  She  seemed  so 
dainty,  so  quiet  and  sweet,  that  for  a  moment  he  found 
himself  able  to  imagine  that  it  was  all  a  dream;  that 
hers  was  just  one  of  those  fairy,  disquieting  voices  that 
floated  about  on  the  summer  breeze  and  rippled  along 
the  valleys  and  hillsides  of  his  Cumberland  home.  Then, 
swift  as  the  fancy  itself,  came  the  warm  touch  of  her 
hand  upon  his,  the  lure  of  her  voice  once  more,  with 
its  trembling  cadence. 

"Why  are  you  so  foolish?"  she  murmured.  "Lou- 
ise is  very  wonderful  in  her  place,  but  she  is  not  what 


120  THE  HILLMAN 

you  want  in  life.  Has  it  never  occurred  to  you  that 
you  may  be  too  late  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  I  believe  what  the  world  believes,  what  some  day  I 
think  she  will  admit  to  herself  —  that  she  cares  for  the 
Prince  of  Seyre." 

"  Has  she  ever  told  you  so  ?  " 

"Louise  never  speaks  of  these  things  to  any  living 
soul.  I  am  only  telling  you  what  I  think.  I  am  try- 
ing to  save  you  pain  —  trying  for  my  own  sake  as  well 
as  yours." 

He  paid  his  bill  and  stooped  to  help  her  with  her 
cloak.  Her  heart  sank,  her  lips  quivered  a  little.  It 
seemed  to  her  that  he  had  passed  to  a  great  distance. 

"  Very  soon,"  John  said,  "  I  shall  ask  Louise  to  tell 
me  the  truth.  I  think  that  I  shall  ask  her,  if  I  can,  to- 
morrow ! " 


XIII 

John's  first  caller  at  the  Milan  was,  in  a  way,  a  sur- 
prise to  him.  He  was  sitting  smoking  an  after-break- 
fast pipe  on  the  following  morning,  and  gazing  at  the 
telephone  directory,  when  his  bell  rang.  He  opened  the 
door  to  find  the  Prince  of  Seyre  standing  outside. 

"  I  pay  you  a  very  early  visit,  I  fear,"  the  latter  be- 
gan. 

"  Not  at  all,"  John  replied,  taking  the  pipe  from  his 
mouth  and  throwing  open  the  door.  "  It  is  very  good 
of  you  to  come  and  see  me." 

The  prince  followed  John  into  the  little  sitting  room. 
He  was  dressed,  as  usual,  with  scrupulous  care.  His 
white  linen  gaiters  were  immaculate,  his  trousers  were 
perfectly  creased,  the  hang  of  his  coat  had  engaged  the 
care  of  an  artist.  His  tie  was  of  a  deep  shade  of  violet, 
fastened  with  a  wonderful  pearl,  and  his  fingers  were 
perhaps  a  trifle  overmanicured.  He  wore  a  bunch  of 
Parma  violets  in  his  buttonhole,  and  he  carried  with  him 
a  very  faint  but  unusual  perfume,  which  seemed  to  John 
like  the  odor  of  delicate  green  tea.  It  was  just  these 
details,  and  the  slowness  of  his  speech,  which  alone  ac- 
centuated his  foreign  origin. 

"  It  occurred  to  me,"  he  said,  as  he  seated  himself  in 
an  easy  chair,  "  that  if  you  are  really  intending  to 
make  this  experiment  in  town  life  of  which  Miss  Maurel 
spoke,  I  might  be  of  some  assistance  to  you.  There  are 


122  THE  HILLMAN 

certain  matters,  quite  unimportant  in  themselves,  con* 
cerning  which  a  little  advice  in  the  beginning  may  save 
you  trouble." 

"  Very  good  of  you,  I  am  sure,"  John  repeated. 
"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  was  just  looking  through  the 
telephone  directory  to  see  if  I  could  come  across  the 
name  of  a  tailor  I  used  to  have  some  things  from." 

"  If  it  pleases  you  to  place  yourself  in  my  hands," 
the  prince  suggested,  "  I  will  introduce  you  to  my  own 
tradespeople.  I  have  made  the  selection  with  some 
care." 

"  That  will  suit  me  admirably,"  John  declared.  "  If 
you  will  just  give  me  the  addresses  —  I  couldn't  think 
of  taking  up  your  time." 

"  I  have,  fortunately,  an  idle  morning,"  the  prince 
said,  "  and  it  is  entirely  at  your  disposal.  At  half  past 
one  I  believe  we  are  both  lunching  with  Miss  Maurel." 

John  was  conscious  of  a  momentary  sense  of  annoy- 
ance. His  tete-a-tete  with  Louise  seemed  farther  off 
than  ever.  At  the  prince's  suggestion,  however,  he 
fetched  his  hat  and  gloves  and  entered  the  former's  au- 
tomobile, which  was  waiting  below. 

"  Miss  Maurel ! "  the  prince  remarked,  as  they  glided 
off  westward,  "  is,  I  believe,  inviting  a  few  friends  to 
meet  you.  If  you  would  feel  more  comfortable  in  town 
clothes,  I  think  the  tailor  to  whom  I  am  taking  you  will 
be  able  to  arrange  that.  He  makes  special  prepara- 
tions for  such  emergencies." 

"  I  will  do  what  you  think  best,"  John  agreed. 

They  spent  the  morning  in  the  neighborhood  of  Bond 
Street,  and  John  laid  the  foundations  of  a  wardrobe 
more  extensive  than  any  he  had  ever  dreamed  of  pos- 
sessing. At  half  past  one  they  were  shown  into  Lou- 
ise's little  dressing  room.  There  were  three  or  four 


THE  HILLMAN  123 

men  already  present,  standing  around  their  hostess  and 
sipping  some  faint  yellow  cordial  from  long  Venetian 
glasses. 

Louise  came  forward  to  meet  them,  and  made  a  little 
grimace  as  she  remarked  the  change  in  John's  appear- 
ance. 

"  Honestly,  I  don't  know  you,  and  I  don't  believe  I 
like  you  at  all !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  How  dare  you  trans- 
form yourself  into  a  tailor's  dummy  in  this  fashion?  " 

"  It  was  entirely  out  of  respect  to  you,"  John  said. 

"  In  fact,"  the  prince  added,  "  we  considered  that  we 
had  achieved  rather  a  success." 

"  I  suppose  I  must  look  upon  your  effort  as  a  com- 
pliment," Louise  sighed,  "  but  it  seems  queer  to  lose 
even  so  much  of  you.  Shall  you  take  up  our  manners 
and  our  habits,  Mr.  Strangewey,  as  easily  as  you  wear 
our  clothes  ?  " 

"  That  I  cannot  promise,"  he  replied. 

*'  The  brain  should  adapt  itself  at  least  as  readily  as 
the  body,"  the  prince  remarked. 

M.  Graillot,  who  was  one  of  the  three  men  present, 
turned  around. 

"  Who  is  talking  platitudes  ?  "  he  (demanded.  "  I 
write  plays,  and  that  is  my  monopoly.  Ah,  it  is  the 
prince,  I  see!  And  our  young  friend  who  interrupted 
us  at  rehearsal  yesterday." 

"  And  whom  I  am  anxious  to  have  you  meet  again," 
Louise  intervened.  "  You  remember  his  name,  perhaps 
—  Mr.  John  Strangewey." 

Graillot  held  out  his  left  hand  to  the  prince  and  his 
right  to  John. 

'*  Mr.  Strangewey,"  he  said,  "  I  congratulate  you ! 
Any  person  who  has  the  good  fortune  to  interest  Miss 
Maurel  is  to  be  congratulated.  .Yet  must  I  look  at  you 


i24  THE  HILLMAN 

and  feel  myself  puzzled.  You  are  not  an  artist  —  no  ? 
You  do  not  paint  or  write?  " 

John  shook  his  head. 

"  Mr.  Strangewey's  claim  to  distinction  is  that  he  is 
just  an  ordinary  man,"  Louise  observed.  "  Such  a  re- 
lief, you  know,  after  all  you  clever  people!  And  that 
reminds  me,  Miles,"  she  added,  turning  to  the  actor,  "  I 
asked  you  here,  too,  especially  to  meet  Mr.  Strangewey 
again.  Mr.  Faraday  is  one  of  the  most  dangerous 
guides  in  London  a  young  man  could  have.  He  knows 
everybody  and  everything  unknowable  and  yet  worth 
knowing.  I  present  him  to  you  as  a  hero.  He  is  going 
to  make  love  to  me  three  hours  a  night  for  very  many 
nights,  we  hope." 

John  shook  hands  with  everybody  and  sipped  the  con- 
tents of  the  glass  which  had  been  handed  to  him.  Then 
a  butler  opened  the  door  and  announced  luncheon* 
Louise  offered  her  hand  to  the  prince,  who  stepped  back. 

"  It  shall  be  the  privilege  of  the  stranger  within  our 
gates,"  he  decided. 

Louise  turned  to  John  with  a  little  smile. 

"  Let  me  show  you,  then,  the  way  to  my  dining  room. 
I  ought  to  apologize  for  not  asking  some  women  to  meet 
you.  I  tried  two  on  the  telephone,  but  they  were  en- 


"  I  will  restore  the  balance,"  the  prince  promised, 
turning  from  the  contemplation  of  one  of  the  prints 
hanging  in  the  hall.  "  I  am  giving  a  supper  party  to- 
night for  Mr.  Strangewey,  and  I  will  promise  him  a  pre- 
ponderance of  your  charming  sex." 

"  Am  I  invited  ?  "  Louise  inquired. 

The  prince  shook  his  head. 

"  Alas,  no !  " 

They  passed  into  a  small  dining  room,  and  here  again 


THE  HILLMAN  125 

John  noticed  that  an  absolute  simplicity  was  para- 
mount. The  carpet  was  of  some  dark,  almost  indis- 
tinguishable color.  The  walls  were  white,  hung  with 
three  or  four  French  etchings  in  black  reed  frames. 
At  one  end  a  curved  window  looked  out  upon  a  vista  of 
green  trees  and  shrubs,  and  the  recess  was  completely 
filled  in  with  what  appeared  to  be  almost  a  grotto  of 
flowers.  The  round  table,  covered  with  an  exquisitely 
fine  cloth,  was  very  simply  laid.  There  was  a  little 
glass  of  the  finest  quality,  and  a  very  little  silver.  For 
flowers  there  was  only  one  bowl,  a  brilliant  patch  of 
some  scarlet  exotic,  in  the  center. 

"  A  supper  party  to  which  I  am  not  invited,"  said 
Louise,  as  she  took  her  place  at  the  table  and  motioned 
John  to  a  seat  by  her  side,  "  fills  me  with  curiosity. 
Who  are  to  be  your  guests,  prince?  " 

"  Calavera  and  her  sprites,"  the  prince  announced. 

Louise  paused  for  a  moment  in  the  act  of  helping  her- 
self to  hors  d'oeuvres.  She  glanced  toward  the  prince. 
He  was  busy  studying  the-  menu  through  his  eye- 
glass. 

"  By  her  sprites  you  mean  — " 

"  The  young  ladies  of  her  wonderful  ballet,"  the 
prince  replied.  "  I  am  also  dipping  into  musical  com- 
edy for  a  few  of  my  guests.  Calavera,  however,  is  to 
be  the  piece  de  resistance" 

The  prince  dropped  his  eye-glass  and  glanced  toward 
his  hostess.  For  a  moment  their  eyes  met.  Louise's 
lips  were  faintly  curled.  It  was  almost  as  if  a  chal- 
lenge had  passed  between  them. 

"  Mr.  Strangewey,"  she  said,  turning  to  John,  "  let 
me  warn  you.  You  are  to  meet  to-night  a  woman  for 
whom  kings  are  reported  to  sigh  in  vain,  at  whose  feet 
the  jeunesse  doree  of  the  world  pours  out  its  riches. 


126  THE  HILLMAN 

Is  it  kind  of  the  prince,  I  wonder,  to  try  and  seal  your 
fate  so  soon  ?  " 

John  laughed  easily.  He  met  the  challenge  in  her 
eyes  and  answered  it. 

"  If  you  are  talking  of  the  great  Calavera,"  he  said, 
*'  she  will  be  far  too  wonderful  a  lady  to  take  any  notice 
of  a  yokel  like  myself.  And  besides  — " 

"  Besides  ?  "  the  prince  intervened. 

"  I  have  only  seen  her  photographs  and  read  of  her," 
'John  remarked,  "  but  I  don't  think  she  would  attract 
me  very  much." 

They  all  laughed.     Graillot  leaned  across  the  table. 

"  My  young  friend,"  he  exclaimed,  "  pray  to  your 
presiding  genius,  the  presiding  genius  that  won  for  you 
the  friendship  of  our  hostess,  that  Calavera  never  hears 
that  speech,  or  within  a  week  you  will  be  at  her  chariot- 
wheels  !  I  have  seen  many  women  and  loved  many,  but 
there  are  none  like  Calavera.  In  her  way  she  is  the 
greatest  artist  that  ever  breathed.  As  for  her  beauty, 
wait  till  you  see  her !  She  has  a  body  which  makes  me 
close  my  eyes  and  dream  of  Greece;  eyes  such  as  one 
seldom  sees  save  in  a  few  parts  of  southern  Spain ;  and 
as  for  her  smile  —  well,  if  I  go  on  I  shall  begin  to  tell 
stories  of  her  victims  and  neglect  my  lunch." 

The  conversation  drifted  away  to  reminiscences  of 
other  great  dancers.  Louise,  under  its  cover,  devoted 
her  attention  to  her  guest, 

"  First  of  all,"  she  asked,  "  tell  me  how  you  like  my 
little  friend?" 

"  I  think  she  is  charming,"  John  answered  without 
hesitation.     "  We  went  to  a  supper  club  last  night  and 
stayed  there  till  about  half  past  three." 
"  A  supper  club  ?  " 
John  nodded. 


THE  HILLMAN  1233 

**  I  have  forgotten  the  name  of  the  place,  but  they 
made  me  a  member.  It  was  great  fun.  We  had  some; 
more  champagne,  and  Sophy  danced.  I  found  a  young; 
man  there  whom  I  used  to  know." 

"  Really,"  said  Louise,  "  I  am  not  sure  that  I  ap- 
prove of  this!  A  supper  club  with  Sophy  until  half 
past  three  in  the  morning !  ** 

He  looked  at  her  quickly. 

"You  don't  mind?" 

"  My  dear  man,  why  should  I  mind  ?  "  she  returned. 
"  What  concern  is  it  of  mine  if  you  and  Sophy  care 
to  amuse  each  other?  It  is  exactly  what  I  hoped 
for." 

"  That's  all  right,  then,"  John  declared,  with  a  sigh 
of  relief.  "  Do  you  know,"  he  went  on,  lowering  his 
voice,  "  that  I  am  just  a  little  disappointed  about  to- 
day?" 

"Disappointed?  After  I  have  taken  the  trouble  to 
give  a  luncheon  party  for  you  ?  " 

"  I  should  have  thought  it  a  greater  compliment,  and 
liked  it  better,  if  you  had  asked  me  to  lunch  with  you 
alone,"  he  said. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  It  would  have  been  a  wasted  opportunity.  You 
have  come  up  to  London  with  a  purpose.  You  have  an 
experiment  to  make,  an  experiment  in  living.  All  these 
men  can  help  you." 

"  The  greater  part  of  my  experiment,"  he  pointed 
out,  "  needs  the  help  of  only  one  person,  and  that  per- 
son is  you." 

She  moved  a  little  uneasily  in  her  chair.  It  might 
have  been  his  fancy,  but  he  imagined  that  she  glanced 
under  her  eyelids  toward  the  Prince  of  Seyre.  The 
prince,  however,  had  turned  almost  ostentatiously  away 


128  THE  HILLMAN 

from  her.     He  was  leaning  across  the  table,  talking  to 
Faraday. 

"  You  have  not  lost  your  gift  of  plain  speech,"  she 
observed. 

"  I  hope  I  never  shall,"  he  declared.  "  It  seems  to 
me  to  be  the  simplest  and  the  best  plan,  after  all,  to  say 
what  you  feel  and  to  ask  for  what  you  want." 

"  So  delightful  in  Cumberland  and  Utopia,"  she 
sighed ;  "  so  impracticable  here !  " 

"  Then  since  we  can't  find  Utopia,  come  back  to  Cum- 
berland," he  suggested. 

A  reminiscent  smile  played  for  a  moment  about  her 
lips. 

"  I  wonder,"  she  murmured,  "  whether  I  shall  ever 
again  see  that  dear,  wonderful  old  house  of  yours,  and 
the  mist  on  the  hills,  and  the  stars  shining  here  and 
there  through  it,  and  the  moon  coming  up  in  the  dis- 
tance!" 

"  All  these  things  you  will  see  again,"  he  assured  her 
confidently.  "  It  is  because  I  want  you  to  see  them 
again  that  I  am  here." 

"  Just  now,  at  this  minute,  I  feel  a  longing  for  them," 
she  whispered,  looking  across  the  table,  out  of  the  win- 
dow, to  the  softly  waving  trees. 

At  the  close  of  the  luncheon,  a  servant  handed  around 
coffee  and  liqueurs.  The  prince  turned  to  Louise. 

"  You  must  not  keep  our  young  friend  too  late,"  he 
said.  "  He  has  appointments  with  his  tailor  and  other 
myrmidons  who  have  undertaken  to  adorn  his  per- 
son." 

"  Alas,"  replied  Louise,  rising,  "  I,  too,  have  to  go 
early  to  my  dressmaker's.  Do  the  honors  for  me, 
prince,  will  you?  —  and  I  will  make  my  adieus  now." 

They  all  rose.     She  nodded  to  Graillot  and  Faraday. 


THE  HILLMAN  129 

The  prince  moved  to  stand  by  the  door.  For  a  moment 
she  and  John  were  detached  from  the  others. 

"  I  want  to  see  you  alone,"  he  said  under  his  breath. 
"When  can  I?" 

She  hesitated. 

"  I  am  so  busy !  "  she  murmured.  "  Next  week  there 
are  rehearsals  nearly  every  minute  of  the  day." 

"  To-morrow,"  John  said  insistently.  "  You  have 
no  rehearsals  then.  I  must  see  you.  I  must  talk  to 
you  without  this  crowd." 

It  was  his  moment.  Her  half-formed  resolutions  fell 
away  before  the  compelling  ring  in  his  voice  and  the 
earnest  pleading  in  his  eyes. 

"  I  will  be  in,"  she  promised,  "  to-morrow  at  six 
o'clock." 


XIV 

After  the  departure  of  her  guests,  Louise  seemed  to 
forget  the  pressing  appointment  with  her  dressmaker. 
She  stood  before  the  window  of  her  drawing-room,  look- 
ing down  into  the  street.  She  saw  Faraday  hail  a  taxi- 
cab  and  drive  off  by  himself.  She  watched  the  prince 
courteously  motion  John  to  precede  him  into  his  wait- 
ing automobile.  She  saw  the  two  men  seat  themselves 
side  by  side,  and  the  footman  close  the  door  and  take 
his  place  beside  the  chauffeur.  She  watched  until  the 
car  took  its  place  in  the  stream  of  traffic  and  disap- 
peared. The  sense  of  uneasiness  which  had  brought 
her  to  the  window  was  unaccountable,  but  it  seemed  in 
some  way  deepened  by  their  departure  together.  Then 
a  voice  from  just  behind  suddenly  startled  her. 

"  Lest  your  reverie,  dear  lady,  should  end  in  spoken 
words  not  meant  for  my  ears,  I,  who  often  give  myself 
up  to  reveries,  hasten  to  acquaint  you  with  the  fact  of 
my  presence." 

She  turned  quickly  around.  It  was  Graillot  who  had 
returned  noiselessly  into  the  room. 

"  You  ?  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Why,  I  thought  you  were 
the  first  to  leave." 

"  I  returned,"  Graillot  explained.  "  An  impulse 
brought  me  back.  A  thought  came  into  my  mind.  I 
wanted  to  share  it  with  you  as  a  proof  of  the  sentiment 
which  I  feel  exists  between  us.  It  is  my  firm  belief  that 


THE  HILLMAN  131 

the  same  thought,  in  a  different  guise,  was  traveling 
through  your  mind,  as  you  watched  the  departure  of 
your  guests." 

She  motioned  him  to  a  place  upon  the  couch,  close 
to  where  she  had  already  seated  herself. 

"  Come,"  she  invited,  "  prove  to  me  that  you  are  a 
thought-reader ! " 

He  sank  back  in  his  corner.  His  hands,  with  their 
short,  stubby  fingers,  were  clasped  in  front  of  him. 
His  eyes,  wide  open  and  alert,  seemed  fixed  upon  her 
with  the  ingenuous  inquisitiveness  of  a  child. 

"  To  begin,  then,  I  find  our  friend,  the  Prince  of 
Seyre,  a  most  interesting,  I  might  almost  say  a  most 
fascinating,  study." 

Louise  did  not  reply.  After  a  moment's  pause  he 
continued : 

"  Let  me  tell  you  something  which  may  or  may  not  be 
unknown  to  you.  A  matter  of  eighty  years  ago,  there 
was  first  kindled  in  the  country  places  of  France  that 
fire  which  ultimately  blazed  over  the  whole  land,  devas- 
tating, murderous,  anarchic,  yet  purifying.  The  fam- 
ily seat  of  the  house  of  Seyre  was  near  Orleans.  In 
that  region  were  many  oppressors  of  the  poor  who, 
when  they  heard  the  mutterings  of  the  storm,  shivered 
for  their  safety.  Upon  not  one  of  them  did  that  furi- 
ous mob  of  men  and  women  pause  to  waste  a  single  mo- 
ment of  their  time.  Without  even  a  spoken  word  save 
one  simultaneous,  unanimous  yell,  they  grouped  to- 
gether from  all  quarters  —  from  every  hamlet,  from 
every  homestead,  men  and  women  and  even  children  — 
and  moved  in  one  solid  body  upon  the  Chateau  de  Seyre. 
The  old  prince  would  have  been  burned  alive  but  for  a 
servant  who  threw  him  a  pistol,  with  which  he  blew  out 
his  brains,  spitting  at  the  mob.  One  of  the  sons  was 


132  THE  HILLMAN 

caught  and  torn  almost  to  pieces.  Only  the  father  of 
our  friend,  the  present  Prince  of  Seyre,  escaped." 

"  Why  do  you  tell  me  all  this  ?  "  Louise  asked,  shiver- 
ing. "  It  is  such  a  chapter  of  horrors ! " 

"  It  illustrates  a  point,"  Graillot  replied.  "  Among 
the  whole  aristocracy  of  France  there  was  no  family  so 
loathed  and  detested  as  the  seigneurs  of  Seyre.  Those 
at  the  chateau,  and  others  who  were  arrested  in  Paris, 
met  their  death  with  singular  contempt  and  calm.  Eu- 
gene of  Seyre,  whose  character  in  my  small  way  I  have 
studied,  is  of  the  same  breed." 

Louise  took  up  a  fan  which  lay  on  the  table  by  her 
side,  and  waved  it  carelessly  in  front  of  her  face. 

"  One  does  so  love,"  she  murmured,  "  to  hear  one's 
friends  discussed  in  this  friendly  spirit ! " 

"  It  is  because  Eugene  of  Seyre  is  a  friend  of  yours 
that  I  am  talking  to  you  in  this  fashion,"  Graillot  con- 
tinued. "  You  have  also  another  friend  —  this  young 
man  from  Cumberland." 

"Well?" 

"  In  him,"  Gaillot  went  on,  "  one  perceives  all  the 
primitive  qualities  which  go  to  the  making  of  splendid 
manhood.  Physically  he  is  almost  perfect,  for  which 
alone  we  owe  him  a  debt  of  gratitude.  He  has,  if  I 
judge  him  rightly,  all  the  qualities  possessed  by  men 
who  have  been  brought  up  free  from  the  taint  of  cities, 
from  the  smear  of  our  spurious  over-civilization.  He 
is  chivalrous  and  unsuspicious.  He  is  also,  unfortu- 
nately for  him,  the  enemy  of  the  prince." 

Louise  laid  down  her  fan.  She  no  longer  tried  to 
conceal  her  agitation. 

"  Why  are  you  so  melodramatic  ?  "  she  demanded. 
"  They  have  scarcely  spoken.  This  is,  I  think,  their 
third  meeting." 


THE  HILLMAN  133 

*'  Wlien  two  friends,"  Graillot  declared,  *'  desire  the 
same  woman,  then  all  of  friendship  that  there  may  have 
been  between  them  is  buried.  When  two  others,  who 
are  so  far  from  being  friends  that  they  possess  opposite 
qualities,  opposite  characters,  opposite  characteristics, 
also  desire  the  same  woman  — " 

"  Don't ! "  Louise  interrupted,  with  a  sudden  little 
scream.  "  Don't !  You  are  talking  wildly.  You  must 
not  say  such  things ! " 

Graillot  leaned  forward.  He  shook  his  head  very 
slowly ;  his  heavy  hand  rested  upon  her  shoulder. 

"  Ah,  no,  dear  lady,"  he  insisted,  "  I  am  not  talking 
wildly.  I  am  Graillot,  who  for  thirty  years  have  writ- 
ten dramas  on  one  subject  and  one  subject  only  —  men 
and  women.  It  has  been  given  to  me  to  study  many 
varying  types  of  the  human  race,  to  watch  the  outcome 
of  many  strange  situations.  I  have  watched  the  prince 
draw  you  nearer  and  nearer  to  him.  What  there  is  or 
may  be  between  you  I  do  not  know.  It  is  not  for  me 
to  know.  But  if  not  now,  some  day  Eugene  of  Seyre 
means  you  to  be  his,  and  he  is  not  a  person  to  be  lightly 
resisted.  Now  from  the  skies  there  looms  up  this  sud- 
<den  obstacle." 

"You  do  not  realize,"  Louise  protested,  almost 
eagerly,  "how  slight  is  my  acquaintance  with  Mr. 
Strangewey.  I  once  spent  the  night  and  a  few  hours 
of  the  next  morning  at  his  house  in  Cumberland,  and 
that  is  all  I  have  ever  seen  of  him.  How  can  his  pres- 
ence here  be  of  any  serious  import  to  Eugene  ?  " 

"  As  to  that,"  Graillot  replied,  "  I  say  nothing.  If 
what  I  have  suggested  does  not  exist,  then  for  the  first 
time  in  my  life  I  have  made  a  mistake;  but  I  do  not 
think  I  have.  You  may  not  realize  it,  but  there  is  be- 
fore you  one  of  those  struggles  that  make  or  mar  the 


134  THE  HILLMAN 

life  of  women  of  every  age.  As  for  the  men,  I  will  onl j 
say  this,  and  it  is  because  of  it  that  I  have  spoken  at 
all  —  I  am  a  lover  of  fair  play,  and  the  struggle  is  not 
even.  The  younger  man  may  hold  every  card  in  the 
pack,  but  Eugene  of  Seyre  has  learned  how  to  win  tricks 
without  aces.  I  stayed  behind  to  say  this  to  you,  Lou- 
ise. You  know  the  young  man  and  I  do  not.  It  is  you 
who  must  warn  him." 

"  Warn  him  ?  "  Louise  repeated,  with  upraised  eye- 
brows. "  Dear  master,  aren't  we  just  a  little  —  do 
you  —  melodramatic?  The  age  of  duels  is  past,  also 
the  age  of  hired  bravos  and  assassins." 

"  Agreed,"  Graillot  interrupted,  "  but  the  weapons 
of  to-day  are  more  dangerous.  It  is  the  souls  of  their 
enemies  that  men  attack.  If  I  were  a  friend  of  that 
young  man's  I  would  say  to  him :  '  Beware,  not  of  the 
enmity  of  Eugene  of  Seyre,  but  of  his  friendship!' 
And  now,  dear  lady,  I  have  finished.  I  lingered  behind 
because  the  world  holds  no  more  sincere  admirer  of 
yourself  and  your  genius  than  I.  Don't  ring.  May  I 
not  let  myself  out?  " 

"  Stop ! "  Louise  begged. 

Graillot  resumed  his  -seat.  He  watched  with  an  al- 
most painful  curiosity  the  changes  in  Louise's  face, 
which  was  convulsed  by  a  storm  of  passionate  appre- 
hension. Yet  behind  it  all  he  could  see  the  truth. 
There  was  something  softer  in  her  face  than  he  had 
ever  perceived  before,  a  tenderer  light  than  he  had  ever 
seen  in  her  eyes.  He  sighed  and  looked  down  at  the 
carpet. 

Louise  rose  presently  and  walked  abruptly  to  the 
window.  Then  she  came  back  and  reseated  herself  by 
his  side. 

"  You  are  the  one  friend  I  have  in  life  who  under- 


THE  HILLMAN  135 

stands,  dear  master,"  she  said.     "  Do  I  weary  you  if  I 
speak?" 

He  looked  steadfastly  into  her  eyes.  His  plain, 
bearded  face  was  heavy-browed,  lined,  tired  a  little  with 
the  coming  of  age. 

"  Louise,"  he  declared,  "  it  is  only  because  I  dare  not 
lift  my  thoughts  and  eyes  any  higher  that  I  count  my- 
self the  greatest  friend  you  ever  could  have  in  life !  " 

She  caught  at  his  hand,  her  head  drooped  a  little. 

"  Don't  overpower  me,"  she  faltered.  "  I  can't  — 
no,  I  can't ! " 

He  watched  in  silence  the  twitching  of  her  lips,  the 
filling  of  her  eyes.  A  momentary  remorse  struck  him. 
Why  should  he  afflict  her  at  this  moment  with  his  own 
secret?  He  closed  his  eyes,  and  deliberately  shut  out 
the  vision  which  had  lured  his  tongue  into  the  byways 
of  unwonted  sentiment.  He  spoke  firmly  and  without 
emotion. 

"  Louise,"  he  begged,  "  let  me  be  your  confidant ! 
No  man  knows  more  of  the  game  of  life  as  it  is  placed 
out  between  men  and  women.  There  is  no  one  in  whom 
you  can  place  a  greater  trust." 

Her  fingers  clutched  his,  her  nails  dug  into  his  palm, 
but  he  did  not  flinch. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  she  murmured,  her  voice  trembling 
with  agitation.  "  That  is  the  truth  of  it  all.  I  do  not 
know  where  to  go  for  guidance  or  inspiration.  Life 
has  suddenly  become  mysterious.  Men  seem  always  so 
strong  and  sure.  It  is  only  we  poor  women  who  lose 
our  bearings." 

Graillot  patted  her  hands  tenderly.  Then  he  rose  to 
his  feet. 

"  You  are  not  going?  "  she  asked  him. 

"  Dear  Louise,"  he  said,  "  I  am  going,  because  the 


136  THE  HILLMAN 

time  when  I  can  help  is  not  yet.  Listen!  More  harm 
has  been  done  in  this  world  by  advice  than  in  any  other 
way.  I  have  no  advice  to  give  you.  You  have  one 
sure  and  certain  guide,  and  that  is  your  own  heart,  your 
own  instincts,  your  own  sweet  consciousness  of  what  is 
best.  I  leave  you  to  that.  If  trouble  comes,  I  am  al- 
ways ready ! " 


XV 

During  the  remainder  of  that  afternoon  and  evening 
John  was  oppressed  by  a  vague  sense  of  the  splendor  of 
his  surroundings  and  his  companion's  mysterious  ca- 
pacity for  achieving  impossibilities.  Their  visits  to 
the  tailors,  the  shirt-makers,  the  hosiers,  and  the  boot- 
makers almost  resembled  a  royal  progress.  All  diffi- 
culties were  waved  aside.  That  night  he  dined,  clothed 
like  other  men  from  head  to  foot,  in  the  lofty  dining 
room  of  one  of  the  most  exclusive  clubs  in  London. 
The  prince  proved  an  agreeable  if  somewhat  reticent 
companion.  He  introduced  John  to  many  well-known 
people,  always  with  that  little  note  of  personal  interest 
in  his  few  words  of  presentation  which  gave  a  certain 
significance  to  the  ceremony. 

From  the  club,  where  the  question  of  John's  proposed 
membership,  the  prince  acting  as  his  sponsor,  was  fa- 
vorably discussed  with  several  members  of  the  commit- 
tee, they  drove  to  Covent  Garden,  and  for  the  first  time 
in  his  life  John  entered  the  famous  opera-house.  The 
prince,  preceded  by  an  attendant,  led  the  way  to  a  box 
upon  the  second  tier.  A  woman  turned  her  head  as 
they  entered  and  stretched  out  her  hand,  which  the 
prince  raised  to  his  lips. 

*'  You  see,  I  have  taken  you  at  your  word,  Eugene," 
she  remarked.  "  So  many  evenings  I  have  looked  long- 
ingly from  my  stall  at  your  empty  box.  To-night  I 
summoned  up  all  my  courage,  and  here  I  am ! " 


138  THE  HILLMAN 

"  You  give  me  a  double  pleasure,  dear  lady,"  the 
prince  declared.  "  Not  only  is  it  a  j  oy  to  be  your  host, 
but  you  give  me  also  the  opportunity  of  presenting  to 
you  my  friend,  John  Strangewey.  Strangewey,  this  is 
my  very  distant  relative  and  very  dear  friend,  Lady 
Hilda  Mulloch." 

Lady  Hilda  smiled  graciously  at  John.  She  was  ap- 
parently of  a  little  less  than  middle  age,  with  dark 
bands  of  chestnut  hair  surmounted  by  a  tiara.  Her 
face  was  the  face  of  a  clever  and  still  beautiful  woman ; 
her  figure  slender  and  dignified;  her  voice  low  and  de- 
lightful. 

"  Are  you  paying  your  nightly  homage  to  Calavera, 
Mr.  Strangewey,  or  are  you  only  an  occasional  vis- 
itor? "  she  asked. 

"  This  is  my  first  visit  of  any  sort  to  Covent  Garden," 
John  told  her. 

She  looked  at  him  with  as  much  surprise  as  good 
breeding  permitted.  John,  who  had  not  as  yet  sat 
down,  seemed  almost  preternaturally  tall  in  that  small 
box,  with  its  low  ceiling.  He  was  looking  around  the 
house  with  the  enthusiasm  of  a  boy.  Lady  Hilda 
glanced  away  from  him  toward  the  prince,  and  smiled ; 
then  she  looked  back  at  John.  There  was  something 
like  admiration  in  her  face. 

"Do  you  live  abroad?"  she  asked. 

John  shook  his  head. 

"  I  live  in  Cumberland,"  he  said.  "  Many  people 
here  seem  to  think  that  that  is  the  same  thing.  My 
brother  and  I  have  a  farm  there." 

"  But  you  visit  London  occasionally,  surely  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  been  in  London,"  John  told  her,  "  since 
I  passed  through  it  on  my  way  home  from  Oxford,  eight 
years  ago." 


THE  HILLMAN  139 

"  But  why  not?  "  she  persisted. 

John  laughed  a  little. 

"  Well,  really,"  he  admitted,  "  when  I  come  to  think 
of  it  seriously,  I  scarcely  know.  I  have  lived  alone  with 
an  elder  brother,  who  hates  London  and  would  be  very 
unhappy  if  I  got  into  the  way  of  coming  up  regularly. 
I  fancy  that  I  have  rather  grown  into  his  way  of  think- 
ing. I  am  quite  satisfied  —  or  rather  I  have  been  quite 
satisfied  —  to  live  down  there  all  the  year  round." 

"  I  have  never  heard  anything  so  extraordinary  in 
my  life ! "  the  woman  declared  frankly.  "  Is  it  the 
prince  who  has  induced  you  to  break  out  of  your  seclu- 
sion? " 

"  Our  young  friend,"  the  prince  explained,  "  finds 
himself  suddenly  in  altered  circumstances.  He  has 
been  left  a  large  fortune,  and  has  come  to  spend  it.  In- 
cidentally, I  hope,  he  has  come  to  see  something  more 
of  your  sex  than  is  possible  among  his  mountain  wilds. 
He  has  come,  in  short,  to  look  a  little  way  into  life." 

Lady  Hilda  leaned  back  in  her  chair. 

"  How  romantic ! " 

"  The  prince  amuses  himself,"  John  assured  her.  "  I 
clon't  suppose  I  shall  stay  very  long  in  London.  I  want 
just  to  try  it  for  a  time." 

She  looked  at  him  almost  wistfully.  She  was  a 
woman  with  brains ;  a  woman  notorious  for  the  freedom 
of  her  life,  for  her  intellectual  gifts,  for  her  almost  bru- 
tal disregard  of  the  conventions  of  her  class.  The  psy- 
chological interest  of  John  Strangewey's  situation  ap- 
pealed to  her  powerfully.  Besides,  she  had  a  weakness 
for  handsome  men. 

*'  Of  course,  it  all  sounds  like  a  fairy  tale,"  she  de- 
clared. "  Tell  me  exactly,  please,  how  long  you  have 
been  in  London." 


i4o  THE  HILLMAN 

"  About  forty-eight  hours,"  he  answered. 

"  And  what  did  you  do  last  night?  " 

"  I  dined  with  two  friends,  we  went  to  the  Palace,  and 
one  of  them  took  me  to  a  supper  club." 

She  made  a  little  grimace. 

"You  began  in  somewhat  obvious  fashion,"  she  re- 
marked. 

"  I  can  vouch  for  the  friends,"  the  prince  observed, 
smiling. 

"At  any  rate,"  said  Lady  Hilda,  "I  am  glad  to 
think  that  I  shall  be  able  to  watch  you  when  you  see 
Calavera  dance  for  the  first  time." 

The  curtain  rang  up  upon  one  of  the  most  gorgeous 
and  sensuous  of  the  Russian  ballets.  John,  who  by; 
their  joint  insistence  was  occupying  the  front  chair  in 
the  box,  leaned  forward  in  his  place,  his  eyes  steadfastly 
fixed  upon  the  stage.  Both  the  prince  and  Lady  Hilda, 
in  the  background,  although  they  occasionally  glanced 
at  the  performance,  devoted  most  of  their  attention  to 
watching  him. 

As  the  story  progressed  and  the  music  grew  in  pas- 
sion and  voluptuousness,  they  distinctly  saw  his  almost 
militant  protest.  They  saw  the  knitting  of  his  firm 
mouth  and  the  slight  contraction  of  his  eyebrows.  The 
prince  and  his  friend  exchanged  glances.  She  drew  her 
chair  a  little  farther  back,  and  he  followed  her  example. 

"  Where  did  you  find  anything  so  wonderful  as  this  ?  '* 
she  murmured. 

"  Lost  among  the  hills  in  Cumberland,"  the  prince  re- 
plied. "  I  have  an  estate  up  there  —  in  fact,  he  and  I 
are  joint  lords  of  the  manor  of  the  village  in  which  he 
has  lived." 

"  And  you?  "  she  whispered,  glancing  at  John  to  be 
sure  that  she  was  not  overheard.  "  Where  do  you  come 


THE  HILLMAN 

in?     An  educator  of  the  young?     I  don't  seem  to  see 
you  in  that  role !  " 

A  very  rare  and  by  no  means  pleasant  smile  twisted 
the  corners  of  his  lips  for  a  moment. 

"  It  is  a  long  story." 

"  Can  I  be  brought  in  ?  "  she  asked. 

He  nodded. 

"  It  rests  with  you.     It  would  suit  my  plans." 

She  toyed  with  her  fan  for  a  moment,  looked  rest- 
lessly at  the  stage  and  back  again  at  John.  Then  she 
rose  from  her  place  and  stood  before  the  looking-glass. 
From  the  greater  obscurity  of  the  box  she  motioned  to 
the  prince. 

John  remained  entirely  heedless  of  their  movements. 
His  eyes  were  still  riveted  upon  the  stage,  fascinated 
with  the  wonderful  coloring,  the  realization  of  a  new^ 
art. 

"  You  and  I,"  Lady  Hilda  whispered,  "  do  not  need 
to  play  about  with  the  truth,  Eugene.  What  are  you 
doing  this  for?  " 

"  The  idlest  whim,"  the  prince  assured  her  quietly. 
"  Look  at  him.  Think  for  a  moment  of  his  position  — 
absolutely  without  experience,  entirely  ignorant  about 
women,  with  a  fortune  one  only  dreams  of,  and  probably 
the  handsomest  animal  in  London.  What  is  going  to 
become  of  him?  " 

"  I  think  I  understand  a  little,"  she  confessed. 

"  I  think  you  do,"  the  prince  assented.  "  He  has 
views,  this  young  man.  It  is  my  humor  to  see  them  dis- 
sipated. The  modern  Sir  Galahad  always  irritated  me 
a  little." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  They'll  never  give  him  a  chance,  these  women,"  she 
said.  "  Much  better  hand  him  over  to  me." 


j42  THE  HILLMAN 

The  prince  smiled  enigmatically,  and  Lady  Hilda  re- 
turned to  her  seat.  John  was  still  leaning  forward 
with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  Calavera,  who  was  dancing 
alone  now.  The  ballet  was  drawing  toward  the  end. 
The  music  had  reached  its  climax  of  wild  and  passion- 
ate sensuousness,  dominated  and  inspired  by  the  woman 
whose  every  movement  and  every  glance  seemed  part  of 
some  occult,  dimly  understood  language. 

When  the  curtain  rang  down,  John,  like  many  others, 
was  confused.  Nevertheless,  after  that  first  breathless 
pause,  he  stood  up  and  joined  in  the  tumultuous  ap- 
plause. 

"  Well?  "  the  prince  asked. 

John  shook  his  head.     "  I  don't  know,"  he  answered. 

"  Neither  does  any  one  else,"  Lady  Hilda  said. 
"  Don't  try  to  analyze  your  impressions  for  our  bene- 
fit, Mr.  Strangewey.  I  am  exactly  in  your  position, 
and  I  have  been  here  a  dozen  times.  Even  to  us  har- 
dened men  and  women  of  the  world,  this  Russian  music 
came  as  a  surprise.  There  were  parts  of  it  you  did 
not  like,  though,  weren't  there  ?  " 

"  There  were  parts  of  it  I  hated,"  John  agreed. 
*'  There  were  passages  that  seemed  to  aim  at  discord  in 
every  sense  of  the  word." 

She  nodded  sympathetically.  They  were  on  their 
way  down  the  broad  staircase. 

"  I  wonder,"  she  murmured,  "  whether  I  am  going  to 
be  asked  out  to  supper?  " 

"  Alas,  not  to-night,  dear  lady,"  the  prince  regretted. 
"  I  am  having  a  few  friends  at  Seyre  House." 

She  shot  a  glance  at  him  and  shrugged  her  shoulders. 
She  was  evidently  displeased. 

"  How  much  too  bad !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  I  am  not 
at  all  sure  that  it  is  right  of  you  to  invite  Mr.  Strange- 


THE  HILLMAN  I4S 

wey  to  one  of  your  orgies.  A  respectable  little  supper 
at  the  Carlton,  and  a  cigarette  in  my  library  afterward,, 
would  have  been  a  great  deal  better  for  both  of  you  — 
certainly  for  Mr.  Strangewey.  I  think  I  shall  run  away 
with  him,  as  it  is !  " 

The  prince  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  It  is  unfortunate,"  he  sighed,  "  but  we  are  both  en- 
gaged. If  you  will  give  us  the  opportunity  some  other 
evening  — " 

"  I  am  not  at  all  sure  that  I  shall  have  anything  more 
to  do  with  you,  Eugene,"  she  declared.  "  You  are  not 
behaving  nicely.  Will  you  come  and  see  me  while  you 
are  in  town,  Mr.  Strangewey  ?  "  she  added,  turning  to 
John.  "  I  suppose  you  can  be  trusted  to  reach  No.  21 
Pont  Street  without  your  Mephistophelian  chaperon  ?  " 

"  I  should  like  to  very  much,"  he  replied.  "  I  think," 
he  added,  a  little  hesitatingly,  "  that  I  have  read  one  of 
your  books  of  travel.  It  is  very  interesting  to  meet  you." 

"  So  my  fame  has  really  reached  Cumberland ! "  she 
laughed.  "  You  must  come  and  talk  to  me  one  after- 
noon quite  soon.  Will  you?  I  want  so  much  to  hear 
your  impressions  of  London.  I  am  always  in  between 
six  and  seven ;  or  if  you  want  to  come  earlier,  I  will  try 
to  be  in  if  you  telephone." 

'*  I  will  come  with  pleasure,"  John  promised. 

They  stood  for  a  few  moments  in  the  crowded  vesti- 
bule until  Lady  Hilda  Mulloch's  car  was  called.  The 
prince  stood  back,  allowing  John  to  escort  her  to  the 
door.  She  detained  him  for  a  moment  after  she  had 
taken  her  seat,  and  leaned  out  of  the  window,  her  fingers 
still  in  his  hand. 

"  Be  careful !  "  she  whispered.  "  The  prince's  supper 
parties  are  just  a  little  —  shall  I  say  banal?  There  are 
better  things  if  one  waits ! " 


XVI 

The  reception-rooms  of  Seyre  House,  by  some  people 
considered  the  finest  in  London,  were  crowded  that  night 
by  a  brilliant  and  cosmopolitan  assembly.  For  some 
time  John  stood  by  the  prince's  side  and  was  introduced 
to  more  people  than  he  had  ever  met  before  in  his  life. 
Presently,  however,  he  was  discovered  by  his  friend 
Amerton. 

"  Queer  thing  your  being  here,  a  friend  of  the  prince 
and  all  that ! "  the  young  man  remarked.  "  Where's 
Miss  Sophy  this  evening?  " 

"  I  haven't  seen  her,"  John  replied.  "  I  don't  be- 
lieve she  is  invited." 

"  Did  you  hear  that  Calavera  is  coming?  "  Amerton 
inquired. 

John  nodded. 

"  She's  expected  any  moment.  I  wonder  what  she's 
like  off  the  stage !  " 

"  You  wait  and  see,"  Lord  Amerton  sighed.  "  There 
isn't  another  woman  in  Europe  to  touch  her.  Why, 
they  say  that  even  our  host  is  one  of  her  victims.  Like 
to  be  introduced  to  some  of  the  girls,  or  shall  we  go  and 
have  a  drink  ?  " 

John  was  hesitating  when  he  felt  a  hand  upon  his 
shoulder.  The  prince's  voice  sounded  in  his  ear. 

"  Strangewey,"  he  said,  "  I  am  privileged  to  present 
you  to  Mme.  Aida  Calavera.  Madame,  this  is  the 
friend  of  whom  I  spoke  to  you." 


THE  HILLMAN  145 

John  turned  away  from  the  little  group  of  girls  and 
young  men  toward  whom  Amerton  had  been  leading  him. 
Even  though  the  prince's  speech  had  given  him  a  mo- 
ment's breathing-space,  he  felt  himself  constrained  to 
pause  before  he  made  his  bow  of  ceremony. 

The  woman  was  different  from  anything  he  had 
imagined,  from  anything  he  had  ever  seen.  In  the  ballet 
a  writhing,  sensuous  figure  with  every  gesture  a  note  in 
the  octave  of  passion,  here  she  seemed  the  very  personi- 
fication of  a  negative  and  striking  immobility.  She  was 
slender,  not  so  tall  as  she  had  seemed  upon  the  stage, 
dressed  in  white  from  head  to  foot.  Her  face  was  al- 
most marblelike  in  its  pallor,  her  smooth,  black  hair  was 
drawn  tightly  over  her  ears,  and  her  eyes  were  of  the 
deepest  shade  of  blue. 

During  that  momentary  pause,  while  he  searched 
among  a  confused  mixture  of  sensations  for  some  for- 
mula of  polite  speech,  John  found  time  to  liken  her  in 
his  mind  to  something  Egyptian.  She  raised  her  hand, 
as  he  bowed,  with  a  gesture  almost  royal  in  its  con- 
descension. The  prince,  with  quiet  tact,  bridged  over 
the  moment  during  which  John  struggled  in  vain  for 
something  to  say. 

"  Mr.  Strangewey,"  he  remarked,  "  paid  his  first  visit 
to  Covent  Garden  to-night.  He  has  seen  his  first  ballet, 
as  we  moderns  understand  the  term.  I  cannot  help  en- 
vying him  that  delight.  He  naturally  finds  it  difficult  to 
realize  this  additional  good  fortune.  Will  you  excuse 
me  for  one  moment  ?  " 

The  prince  departed  to  welcome  some  later  arrivals. 
The  noisy  little  group  standing  close  at  hand,  from 
which  John  had  been  diverted,  passed  on  into  the  re- 
freshment-room, and  the  two  were,  for  a  few  moments, 
almost  isolated. 


146  THE  HILLMAN 

Even  then  John  felt  himself  tongue-tied.  Standing 
where  she  was,  with  that  background  of  dark  oil-paint- 
ings lit  only  by  shaded  electric  lamps,  she  was  more  than 
ever  like  a  wonderful  old  Egyptian  statue  into  which 
some  measure  of  slow-moving  life  had  been  breathed. 
He  recognized  almost  with  wonder  the  absence  of  any 
ornament  of  any  sort  on  her  neck  or  fingers. 

**  You  were  pleased  with  the  performance,  I  hope  ?  " 

Her  voice  was  in  character  with  her  personality.  It 
was  extremely  low,  scarcely  louder  than  a  whisper.  To 
his  surprise,  it  was  almost  wholly  free  from  any  foreign 
accent. 

"  It  was  very  wonderful,"  John  answered. 

"  You  understood  the  story?  " 

"  Only  partly,"  he  confessed. 

'*  Would  you  have  recognized  me,  seeing  me  as  you  do 
now?" 

"  Never  in  the  world,"  he  assured  her. 

"  Tell  me  why  I  am  so  different  off  the  stage." 

"  On  the  stage,"  he  replied,  "  you  seem  to  me  to  be 
the  embodiment  of  wild  movement.  Here,  you  seem  — 
forgive  me  —  to  be  a  statue.  I  can  scarcely  believe  that 
you  walked  across  the  room." 

"  It  is  my  pose,"  she  said  calmly  J 

"  Then  you  are  a  great  actress  as  well  as  a  great 
dancer,"  he  declared. 

For  the  first  time  the  plastic  calm  of  her  features 
seemed  disturbed.  She  smiled,  but  even  her  smile  seemed 
to  him  more  like  some  mechanically  contrived  alteration 
in  the  facial  expression  of  a  statue  than  anything  nat- 
ural or  spontaneous. 

"  The  prince  tells  me,"  she  continued,  "  that  you  are 
a  stranger  in  London.  Give  me  your  arm.  We  will 
walk  to  a  quieter  place.  In  a  few  moments  we  are  to 


THE  HILLMAN  147 

be  disturbed  for  supper.  One  eats  so  often  and  so  much 
in  this  country.  Why  do  I  say  that,  though?  It  is 
not  so  bad  as  in  Russia." 

They  passed  across  the  polished  wood  floor  into  a  lit- 
tle room  with  Oriental  fittings,  where  a  lamp  was  swing- 
ing from  the  ceiling,  giving  out  a  dim  but  pleasant  light. 
The  place  was  empty,  and  the  sound  of  the  music  and 
voices  seemed  to  come  from  a  distance.  She  sank  down 
upon  a  divan  back  among  the  shadows,  and  motioned 
John  to  sit  by  her  side. 

"  You  have  come  to  find  out,  to  understand  —  is  that 
not  so  ?  "  she  inquired.  "  What  you  know  of  life,  the 
prince  tells  me,  you  have  learned  from  books.  Now  you 
have  come  to  discover  what  more  than  that  there  is  to 
be  learned  in  the  world  of  men  and  women." 

"  Did  the  prince  tell  you  all  this  ?  "  John  asked. 

"  He  did,"  she  admitted.  "  He  seems  much  interested 
in  you." 

"  He  has  been  very  kind,"  John  said. 

She  turned  her  head  slowly  and  looked  at  him. 

"  A  young  man  to  whom  the  prince  chooses  to  be  kind 
is,  in  a  way,  fortunate,"  she  said.  "  I  think  he  knows 
more  of  life  than  any  other  person  whom  I  ever  met." 

"  You  have  known  him  for  long?  " 

"  In  Budapest,  five  years  ago ;  in  Russia,  the  season 
afterward ;  then  in  Paris ;  in  Petersburg  again,  and  now 
in  London.  The  prince  has  been  a  faithful  friend.  He 
came  once  from  Florence  to  Petersburg,  to  be  present 
at  my  first  night  at  the  opera.  Always  he  impresses 
me  the  same  way.  There  is  very  little  in  life,  in  men 
or  in  women,  which  he  does  not  understand.  Let  us 
return  to  what  we  were  speaking  about.  I  find  it  very 
interesting." 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  John  declared. 


148  THE  HILLMAN 

"  What  you  will  learn  here,"  she  went  on,  "  depends 
very  much  upon  yourself.  Are  you  intelligent?  Per- 
haps not  very,"  she  added,  looking  at  him  critically. 
"  You  have  brains,  however,  without  a  doubt.  You 
Lave  also  what  places  you  at  once  en  rapport  with  the 
cult  of  the  moment  —  you  are  wonderfully  good-look- 
ing." 

John  moved  a  little  uneasily  in  his  place.  He  felt 
that  the  dancer's  eyes  were  fixed  upon  him,  and  he  was 
feverishly  anxious  not  to  respond  to  the  invitation  of 
their  gaze.  He  was  conscious,  too,  of  the  queer,  inde- 
finable fascination  of  her  near  presence  in  the  dimly 
lighted  room. 

"  What  you  will  learn,"  she  proceeded,  "  depends 
Yery  much  upon  your  desires.  If  you  seek  for  the  best, 
and  are  content  with  nothing  else,  you  will  find  it.  But 
so  few  men  are  content  to  wait ! " 

"  I  intend  to,"  John  said  simply. 

"  Look  at  me,  please,"  she  ordered. 

Once  more  he  was  compelled  to  look  into  her  deep- 
blue  eyes.  The  incomprehensible  smile  was  still  upon 
her  lips. 

"You  have  loved?" 

"  No,"  he  answered,  taken  a  little  aback  by  the 
abruptness  of  the  question. 

"  You  grow  more  wonderful !  How  old  are  you,  may 
I  ask?" 

"  Twenty-eight." 

"  At  the  present  moment,  then,  you  are  free  from 
any  distracting  thoughts  about  women?  You  have  no 
entanglements  ?  " 

"  I  have  nothing  of  the  sort,"  John  declared,  almost 
irritably.  "  There  is  one  person  who  has  made  a  won- 
derful change  in  my  life.  I  believe  I  could  say  that  I 


THE  HILLMAN  149 

am  absolutely  certain  of  my  feelings  for  her,  but  so  far 
she  has  not  given  me  much  encouragement.  Tell  me, 
madame,  why  do  you  ask  me  these  questions  ?  " 

"  Because  it  interests  me,"  she  replied.  "  Why  do 
you  not  insist  that  this  lady  should  tell  you  the 
truth?" 

"  I  have  come  to  London  to  insist,"  he  told  her,  "  but 
I  have  been  here  only  forty-eight  hours." 

"  So  you  are  waiting?  " 

"  I  am  waiting,"  he  assented. 

"  So  many  people  spend  their  lives  doing  that,"  she 
went  on  presently.  "  It  does  not  appeal  to  me.  The 
moment  I  make  up  my  mind  that  I  want  a  thing,  I 
take  it.  The  moment  I  make  up  my  mind  to  give,  I 
give." 

John  was  suddenly  conscious  of  the  closeness  of  the 
atmosphere.  The  fingers  of  his  hands  were  clenched 
tightly  together.  He  swore  to  himself  that  he  would 
not  look  into  this  woman's  face.  He  listened  to  the 
band  which  was  playing  in  the  balcony  of  the  great  hall, 
to  the  murmur  of  the  voices,  the  shouts  of  laughter. 
He  told  himself  that  Mme.  Calavera  was  amusing  her- 
self with  him. 

"  The  prince's  party,"  she  continued,  after  a  long 
pause,  "  seems  to  be  a  great  success,  to  judge  by  the 
noise  they  are  making.  So  many  people  shout  and 
laugh  when  they  are  happy.  I  myself  find  a  more  per- 
fect expression  of  happiness  in  silence." 

She  was  leaning  a  little  back  in  her  place.  One  arm 
was  resting  upon  a  pile  of  cushions,  the  other  hung 
loosely  over  the  side  of  the  divan.  John  felt  a  sudden 
desire  to  rise  to  his  feet,  and  a  simultaneous  conscious- 
ness that  his  feet  seemed  to  be  made  of  lead. 

"  You  may  hold  my  fingers,"  she  said ;  "  and  please 


150  THE  HILLMAN 

keep  your  face  turned  toward  me.  Why  are  you  nerv- 
ous? I  am  not  very  formidable." 

He  took  her  fingers,  very  much  as  the  prince  had 
done  upon  her  arrival,  and  pressed  them  formally  to 
his  lips.  Then  he  released  them  and  rose. 

"  You  know,"  he  confessed,  "  I  am  very  stupid  at  this 
sort  of  thing.  Shall  we  go  back  to  the  reception  rooms? 
I  shall  be  the  most  unpopular  man  here  if  I  keep  you  any 
longer." 

The  smile  deepened  slightly.  Little  lines  appeared 
at  the  sides  of  her  eyes.  So  far  from  being  annoyed,  he 
could  see  that  she  was  laughing. 

"  Joseph,"  she  mocked,  "  I  am  not  tempting  you, 
really  1  Do  sit  down.  I  have  met  men  in  many  coun- 
tries, but  none  like  you.  So  you  do  not  wish  to  accept 
those  small  privileges  which  a  woman  may  offer  when 
she  chooses  ?  " 

"  I  believe  —  in  fact,  I  am  almost  certain  —  that  I 
love  the  woman  I  have  come  to  London  to  see,"  John  de- 
clared. 

"  You  get  more  and  more  interesting,"  she  murmured. 
"  Don't  you  realize  that  your  love  for  one  woman  should 
make  you  kind  to  all  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't,"  he  answered  bluntly. 

"  Come,"  she  said,  "  do  not  be  afraid  of  me.  I  will 
not  make  love  to  you  —  seriously.  You  must  be  kind 
to  me  because  everybody  spoils  me.  After  supper  there 
are  one  or  two  more  questions  I  must  ask  you.  Do  you 
know  that  I  am  going  to  dance  here?  Never  before 
have  I  danced  in  a  private  house  in  England.  Except 
upon  the  stage,  I  like  to  dance  only  to  those  whom  I 
love ! " 

The  little  space  between  the  curtains  was  suddenly 
darkened.  John  turned  eagerly  around,  and,  to  his 


THE  HILLMAN  151 

immense  relief,  recognized  the  prince.  Their  host  came 
forward  to  where  they  were  sitting,  and  held  out  his 
arm  to  Calavera. 

"  Dear  lady,"  he  announced,  "  supper  is  served. 
Will  you  do  me  this  great  honor?  " 

She  rose  to  her  feet.     The  prince  turned  to  John. 

"  This  is  my  privilege  as  host,"  he  explained ;  "  but 
if  you  will  follow  us,  you  will  find  some  consolation  in 
store  for  you." 


XVII 

"  Well  ?  "  the  prince  asked,  as  he  handed  Aida  Gala- 
vera  to  her  place  at  his  right  hand. 

"  I  think  not,"  she  replied. 

He  raised  his  eyebrows  slightly.  For  a  moment  he 
glanced  down  the  supper-table  with  the  care  of  a  punc- 
tilious host,  to  see  that  his  guests  were  properly  seated. 
He  addressed  a  few  trivialities  to  the  musical-comedy 
star  who  was  sitting  on  his  left.  Then  he  leaned  once 
more  toward  the  great  dancer. 

"  You  surprise  me,"  he  said.  "  I  should  have  thought 
that  the  enterprise  would  have  commended  itself  to  you. 
You  do  not  doubt  the  facts  ?  " 

"  They  are  obvious  enough,"  she  replied.  "  Thei 
young  man  is  all  that  you  say,  even  more  ingenuous 
than  I  had  believed  possible,  but  I  fancy  I  must  be 
getting  old.  He  tried  to  tell  me  that  he  was  in  love  with 
another  woman,  and  I  felt  suddenly  powerless.  I  think 
I  must  be  getting  to  that  age  when  one  prefers  to 
achieve  one's  conquests  with  the  lifting  of  a  finger." 

The  prince  sighed. 

"I  shall  never  understand  your  sex!"  he  declared. 
**  I  should  have  supposed  that  the  slight  effort  of  re- 
sistance such  a  young  man  might  make  would  have 
provided  just  the  necessary  stimulus  to  complete  his 
subjection." 

She  turned  her  beautiful  head  and  looked  at  the  prince 
through  narrowed  eyes. 

"  After  all,"  she  asked,  "  what  should  I  gain  ?     I  am 


THE  HILLMAN  153 

not  like  a  child  who  robs  an  insect  of  life  for  a  few  mo- 
ments' amusement.  Even  if  I  have  no  conscience,  it 
gives  me  no  pleasure  to  be  wanton.  Besides,  the  young 
man  is,  in  his  way,  a  splendid  work  of  art.  Why  should 
I  be  vandal  enough  to  destroy  it?  I  shall  ask  you  an- 
other question." 

The  prince  slowly  sipped  the  wine  from  the  glass  that 
he  was  holding  to  his  lips.  Then  he  set  it  down  de- 
liberately. 

"Why  not?" 

"  What  is  your  interest  ?  Is  it  a  bet,  a  whim,  or  — 
enmity  ?  " 

"  You  may  count  it  the  latter,"  the  prince  replied 
deliberately. 

Calavera  laughed  softly  to  herself. 

"  Now,  for  the  first  time,"  she  confessed,  "  I  feel  in- 
terest. This  is  where  one  realizes  that  we  live  in  the 
most  impossible  age  of  all  history.  The  great  noble 
who  seeks  to  destroy  the  poor  young  man  from  the 
country  is  powerless  to  wreak  harm  upon  him.  You 
can  neither  make  him  a  pauper  nor  have  him  beaten  to 
death.  Why  are  there  princes  any  longer,  I  wonder? 
You  are  only  as  other  men." 

"  It  is  an  unhappy  reflection,  but  it  is  the  truth," 
the  prince  admitted.  "  My  ancestors  would  have  dis- 
posed of  this  young  man  as  I  should  a  troublesome  fly, 
and  it  would  have  cost  them  no  more  than  a  few  silver 
pieces  and  a  cask  of  wine.  To-day,  alas,  conditions 
are  different.  It  will  cost  me  more." 

She  trifled  for  a  moment  with  the  salad  upon  her 
plate,  which  as  yet  she  had  scarcely  tasted. 

"  I  am  feeling,"  she  remarked,  "  magnificently  Ori- 
ental—  like  Cleopatra.  The  sensation  pleases  me. 
We  are  bargaining,  are  we  not — " 


154  THE  HILLMAN 

"  We  shall  not  bargain,"  the  prince  interrupted 
softly.  "  It  is  you  who  shall  name  your  price." 

She  raised  her  eyes  and  dropped  them  again. 

"  The  prince  has  spoken,"  she  murmured. 

He  touched  her  fingers  for  a  moment  with  his,  as  if 
to  seal  their  compact ;  then  he  turned  once  more  to  the 
lady  upon  his  left. 

Seyre  House  was  one  of  the  few  mansions  in  London 
which  boasted  a  banqueting-hall  as  well  as  a  picture- 
gallery.  Although  the  long  table  was  laid  for  forty 
guests,  it  still  seemed,  with  its  shaded  lights  and  its  pro- 
fusion of  flowers,  like  an  oasis  of  color  in  the  middle  of 
the  huge,  somberly  lighted  apartment.  The  penny 
illustrated  papers,  whose  contributors  know  more  of  the 
doings  of  London  society  than  anybody  else,  always 
hinted  in  mysterious  terms  at  the  saturnalian  character 
of  the  prince's  supper  parties.  John,  who  had  heard 
a  few  whispers  beforehand,  and  whose  interest  in  his 
surroundings  was  keen  and  intense,  wondered  whether 
this  company  of  beautiful  women  and  elegant  men  were 
indeed  a  modern  revival  of  those  wonderful  creations  of 
Boccaccio,  to  whom  they  had  so  often  been  lik- 
ened. 

Some  of  the  faces  of  the  guests  were  well  known  to 
him  through  their  published  photographs ;  to  others  he 
had  been  presented  by  the  prince  upon  their  arrival. 
He  was  seated  between  a  young  American  star  of  musi- 
cal comedy  and  a  lady  who  had  only  recently  dropped 
from  the  social  firmament  through  the  medium  of  the 
divorce-court,  to  return  to  the  theater  of  her  earlier 
fame.  Both  showed  every  desire  to  converse  with  him 
between  the  intervals  of  eating  and  drinking,  but  were 
constantly  brought  to  a  pause  by  John's  lack  of  knowl- 
edge of  current  topics.  After  her  third  glass  of  cham- 


THE  HILLMAN  155 

pagne,  the  lady  who  had  recently  been  a  countess  an- 
nounced her  intention  of  taking  him  under  her  wing. 

"  Some  one  must  tell  you  all  about  things,"  she  in- 
sisted. "  What  you  need  is  a  guide  and  a  chaperon. 
Won't  I  do?" 

"  Perfectly,"  he  agreed. 

"  Fair  play ! "  protested  the  young  lady  on  his  left, 
whose  name  was  Rosie  Sharon.  "  I  spoke  to  him  first !  " 

"  Jolly  bad  luck ! "  Lord  Amerton  drawled  from  the 
other  side  of  the  table.  "  Neither  of  you  have  an 
earthly.  He's  booked.  Saw  him  out  with  her  the  other 
evening." 

"  I  sha'n't  eat  any  more  supper,"  Rosie  Sharon 
pouted,  pushing  away  her  plate. 

"  You  ought  to  have  told  us  about  her  at  once,"  the 
lady  who  had  been  a  countess  declared  severely. 

John  preserved  his  equanimity. 

"  It  is  to  be  presumed,"  he  murmured,  "  that  you 
ladies  are  both  free  from  any  present  attachment  ?  " 

"  Got  you  there ! "  Amerton  chuckled.  "  What 
about  Billy?" 

Rosie  Sharon  sighed. 

"  We  don't  come  to  the  prince's  supper  parties  to 
remember  our  ties,"  she  declared.  "  Let's  all  go  on 
talking  nonsense,  please.  Even  if  my  heart  is  broken, 
I  could  never  resist  the  prince's  pate!  " 

Apparently  every  one  was  of  the  same  mind.  The 
hum  of  laughter  steadily  grew.  Jokes,  mostly  in  the 
nature  of  personalities,  were  freely  bandied  across  the 
table.  It  was  becoming  obvious  that  the  contributors 
to  the  penny  illustrated  papers  knew  what  they  were 
talking  about.  Under  shelter  of  the  fire  of  conversa- 
tion, the  prince  leaned  toward  his  companion  and  re- 
opened their  previous  discussion. 


I56  THE  HILLMAN 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  began,  "  I  am  inclined  to  be 
somewhat  disappointed  by  your  lack  of  enthusiasm  in  a 
certain  direction ! " 

"  I  have  disappointed  many  men  in  my  time,"  she  re- 
plied. "  Do  you  doubt  my  power,  now  that  I  have 
promised  to  exercise  it?" 

"  Who  could  ?  "  he  replied  courteously.  "  Yet  this 
young  man  poses,  I  believe,  as  something  of  a  St.  An- 
thony. He  may  give  you  trouble." 

"  He  is  then,  what  you  call  a  prig?  " 

"  A  most  complete  and  perfect  specimen,  even  in  this 
nation  of  prigs  1 " 

"  All  that  you  tell  me,"  she  sighed,  "  makes  the  en- 
terprise seem  easier.  It  is,  after  all,  rather  like  the 
lioness  and  the  mouse,  isn't  it?  " 

The  prince  made  no  reply,  but  upon  his  lips  there 
lingered  a  faintly  incredulous  smile.  The  woman  by 
his  side  leaned  back  in  her  place.  She  had  the  air  of 
accepting  a  challenge. 

"  After  supper,"  she  said,  "  we  will  see ! " 

A  single  chord  of  music  in  a  minor  key  floated  across 
the  room,  soft  at  first,  swelling  later  into  a  volume  of 
sound,  then  dying  away  and  ceasing  altogether.  John, 
standing  momentarily  alone  in  a  corner  of  the  picture- 
gallery,  found  it  almost  incredible  that  this  wildly 
hilarious  throng  of  men  and  women  could  so  soon,  and 
without  a  single  admonitory  word,  break  off  in  the 
midst  of  their  conversation,  stifle  their  mirth,  almost 
hold  their  breath,  in  obedience  to  this  unspoken  appeal 
for  silence.  Every  light  in  the  place  was  suddenly  ex- 
tinguished. There  remained  only  the  shaded  lamps 
overhanging  the  pictures. 

Not  a  whisper  was  heard  in  the  room.     John,  look- 


THE  HILLMAN  15? 

ing  around  him  in  astonishment,  was  conscious  only  of 
the  half-suppressed  breathing  of  the  men  and  women 
who  lined  the  walls,  or  were  still  standing  in  little  groups 
at  the  end  of  the  long  hall.  Again  there  came  the  music, 
this  time  merged  in  a  low  but  insistent  clamor  of  other- 
instruments.  Then,  suddenly,  through  the  door  at  the 
farther  end  of  the  room  came  a  dimly  seen  figure  in 
white.  The  place  seemed  wrapped  in  a  mystical  twi- 
light, with  long  black  rays  of  deeper  shadow  lying  across 
the  floor.  There  was  a  little  murmur  of  tense  voices, 
and  then  again  silence. 

For  a  few  moments  the  figure  in  white  was  motionless. 
Then,  without  any  visible  commencement,  she  seemed 
suddenly  to  blend  into  the  waves  of  low,  passionate 
music.  The  dance  itself  was  without  form  or  definite 
movement.  She  seemed  at  first  like  some  white,  limb- 
less spirit,  floating  here  and  there  across  the  dark  bars^ 
of  shadow  at  the  calling  of  the  melody.  There  was  no 
apparent  effort  of  the  body.  She  was  merely  a  beauti- 
ful, unearthly  shape.  It  was  like  the  flitting  of  a  white 
moth  through  the  blackness  of  a  moonless  summer  night. 

The  impression  it  made  upon  John  was  indescribable. 
He  watched  with  straining  eyes,  conscious  of  a  deep 
sense  of  pleasure.  Here  was  something  appealing  in- 
sistently to  his  love  of  beauty  pure  and  simple;  a  new- 
joy,  a  new  grace,  something  which  thrilled  him  and 
which  left  no  aftermath  of  uneasy  thoughts. 

The  music  suddenly  faded  away  into  nothing.  With 
no  more  effort  than  when  she  had  glided  into  her  poem 
of  movement,  the  dancer  stood  in  a  pose  of  perfect  still- 
ness. There  were  a  few  moments  of  tense  silence. 
Then  came  a  crash  of  chords,  and  the  slender  white 
figure  launched  into  the  dance. 

Her  motions  became  more  animated,  more  human.. 


i58  THE  HILLMAN 

With  feet  which  seemed  never  to  meet  the  earth,  she 
glided  toward  the  corner  where  John  was  standing. 
He  caught  the  smoldering  fire  in  her  eyes  as  she  danced 
within  a  few  feet  of  him.  He  felt  a  catch  in  his  breath. 
Some  subtle  and  only  half-expressed  emotion  shook  his 
whole  being,  seemed  to  tear  at  the  locked  chamber  of 
his  soul. 

She  had  flung  her  arms  forward,  so  near  that  they 
almost  touched  him.  He  could  have  sworn  that  her  lips 
had  called  his  name.  He  felt  himself  bewitched,  filled 
with  an  insane  longing  to  throw  out  his  arms  in  response 
to  her  passionate,  unspoken  invitation,  in  obedience  to 
the  clamoring  of  his  seething  senses.  He  had  forgotten, 
even,  that  any  one  else  was  in  the  room. 

Then,  suddenly,  the  music  stopped.  The  lights  flared 
out  from  the  ceiling  and  from  every  corner  of  the  apart- 
ment. Slender  and  erect,  her  arms  hanging  limply  at 
her  sides,  without  a  touch  of  color  in  her  cheeks  or  a 
coil  of  her  black  hair  disarranged,  without  a  sign  of 
heat  or  disturbance  or  passion  in  her  face,  John  found 
Aida  Calavera  standing  within  a  few  feet  of  him,  her 
eyes  seeking  for  his.  She  laid  her  fingers  upon  his  arm. 
The  room  was  ringing  with  shouts  of  applause,  in 
which  John  unconsciously  joined.  Every  one  was  try- 
ing to  press  forward  toward  her.  With  her  left  hand 
she  waved  them  back. 

"  If  I  have  pleased  you,"  she  said,  "  I  am  so  glad ! 
I  go  now  to  rest  for  a  little  time." 

She  tightened  her  clasp  upon  her  companion's  arm, 
and  they  passed  out  of  the  picture-gallery  and  down  a 
long  corridor.  John  felt  as  if  he  were  walking  in  a 
dream.  Volition  seemed  to  have  left  him.  He  only 
knew  that  the  still,  white  hand  upon  his  arm  seemed  like 
a  vise  burning  into  his  flesh. 


THE  HILLMAN  159 

She  led  him  to  the  end  of  the  corridor,  through  an- 
other door,  into  a  small  room  furnished  in  plain  but 
comfortable  fashion. 

"  We  will  invade  the  prince's  own  sanctum,"  she  mur- 
mured. "  Before  I  dance,  I  drink  nothing  but  water. 
Now  I  want  some  champagne.  Will  you  fetch  me  some, 
and  bring  it  to  me  yourself?  " 

She  sank  back  upon  a  divan  as  she  spoke.  John 
turned  to  leave  the  room,  but  she  called  him  back. 

"  Come  here,"  she  invited,  "  close  to  my  side !  I  can 
wait  for  the  champagne.  Tell  me,  why  you  are  so 
silent?  And  my  dancing  —  that  pleased  you?" 

He  felt  the  words  stick  in  his  throat.  The  sight  of 
her  cold,  alluring  beauty,  shining  out  of  her  eyes,  pro- 
claiming itself  and  her  wishes  from  her  parted  lips, 
filled  him  with  a  sudden  resentment.  He  hated  himself 
for  the  tumult  which  raged  within  him,  and  her  for  hav- 
ing aroused  it. 

"  Your  dancing  was  indeed  wonderful,"  he  stammered. 

"  It  was  for  you ! "  she  whispered,  her  voice  growing 
softer  and  lower.  "  It  was  for  you  I  danced.  Did  you 
not  feel  it?" 

Her  arms  stole  toward  him.  The  unnatural  calm 
with  which  she  had  finished  her  dance  seemed  suddenly 
to  pass.  Her  bosom  was  rising  and  falling  more 
quickly.  There  was  a  faint  spot  of  color  in  her  cheek. 

"  It  was  wonderful,"  he  told  her.  "  I  will  get  you 
the  champagne." 

Her  lips  were  parted.     She  smiled  up  at  him. 

"  Go  quickly,"  she  whispered,  "  and  come  back 
quickly!  I  wait  for  you." 

He  left  the  room  and  passed  out  again  into  the  pic- 
ture-gallery before  he  had  the  least  idea  where  he  was. 
The  band  was  playing  a  waltz,  and  one  or  two  couples; 


i6o  THE  HILLMAN 

were  dancing.  The  people  seemed  suddenly  to  have 
become  like  puppets  in  some  strange,  unreal  dream. 
He  felt  an  almost  feverish  longing  for  the  open  air,  for 
a  long  draft  of  the  fresh  sweetness  of  the  night,  far 
away  from  this  overheated  atmosphere  charged  with  un- 
namable  things. 

As  he  passed  through  the  farther  doorway  he  came 
face  to  face  with  the  prince. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  the  latter  asked. 

"  Mme.  Calavera  has  asked  me  to  get  her  some  cham- 
pagne," he  answered. 

The  prince  smiled. 

"  I  will  see  that  it  is  sent  to  her  at  once,"  he  promised. 
*' You  are  in  my  sanctum,  are  you  not?  You  can  pur- 
sue your  tete-a-tete  there  without  interruption.  You 
are  a  very  much  envied  man !  " 

"  Mme.  Calavera  is  there,"  John  replied.  "  As  for 
me,  I  am  afraid  I  shall  have  to  go  now." 

The  smile  faded  from  the  prince's  lips.  His  eye- 
brows came  slowly  together. 

"  You  are  leaving?  "  he  repeated. 

"  I  must !  "  John  insisted.  "  I  can't  help  it.  For- 
give my  behaving  like  a  boor,  but  I  must  go.  Good 
night ! " 

The  prince  stretched  out  his  hand,  but  he  was  too 
late. 

It  was  twenty  minutes  past  two  o'clock  when  John 
left  Grosvenor  Square,  and  it  was  twenty  minutes  to  five 
when  a  sleepy  hall-porter  took  him  up  in  the  lift  to  his 
rooms  on  the  fourth  floor  at  the  Milan.  The  interven- 
ing space  of  time  was  never  anything  to  him  but  an 
ugly  and  tangled  sheaf  of  memories. 

His  first  overwhelming  desire  had  been  simply  to 
€scape  from  that  enervating  and  perfervid  atmosphere, 


THE  HILLMAN  161 

to  feel  the  morning  air  cool  upon  his  forehead,  to  drink 
in  great  gulps  of  the  fresh,  windy  sweetness.  He  felt 
as  if  poison  had  been  poured  into  his  veins,  as  if  he 
had  tampered  with  the  unclean  things  of  life. 

He  found  himself,  after  a  few  minutes'  hurried  walk- 
ing, in  Piccadilly.  The  shadows  that  flitted  by  him, 
lingering  as  he  approached  and  offering  their  stereo- 
typed greeting,  filled  him  with  a  new  horror.  He  turned 
abruptly  down  Duke  Street  and  made  his  way  to  St. 
James's  Park.  From  here  he  walked  slowly  eastward. 
When  he  reached  the  Strand,  however,  the  storm  in  his 
soul  was  still  unabated.  He  turned  away  from  the 
Milan.  The  turmoil  of  his  passions  drove  him  to  the 
thoughts  of  flight.  Half  an  hour  later  he  entered  St. 
Pancras  Station. 

"  What  time  is  the  next  train  north  to  Kendal  or 
Carlisle  ?  "  he  inquired. 

The  porter  stared  at  him.  John's  evening  clothes 
were  spattered  with  mud,  the  rain-drops  were  glistening 
on  his  coat  and  face,  his  new  silk  hat  was  ruined.  It 
was  not  only  his  clothes,  however,  which  attracted  the 
man's  attention.  There  was  the  strained  look  of  a 
fugitive  in  John's  face,  a  fugitive  flying  from  some 
threatened  fate. 

"  The  newspaper  train  at  five  thirty  is  the  earliest, 
sir,"  he  said.  "  I  don't  know  whether  you  can  get  to 
Kendal  by  it,  but  it  stops  at  Carlisle." 

John  looked  at  the  clock.  There  was  an  hour  to 
wait.  He  wandered  about  the  station,  gloomy,  chill, 
deserted.  The  place  sickened  him,  and  he  strolled  out 
into  the  streets  again.  By  chance  he  left  the  station 
by  the  same  exit  as  on  the  day  of  his  arrival  in  London. 
He  stopped  short. 

How  could  he  have  forgotten,  even  for  a  moment? 


162  THE  HILLMAN 

This  was  not  the  world  which  he  had  come  to  discover. 
This  was  just  some  plague-spot  upon  which  he  had 
stumbled.  Through  the  murky  dawn  and  across  the 
ugly  streets  he  looked  into  Louise's  drawing-room. 
She  would  be  there  waiting  for  him  on  the  morrow ! 

Louise !  The  thought  of  her  was  like  a  sweet,  purify- 
ing stimulant.  He  felt  the  throbbing  of  his  nerves 
soothed.  He  felt  himself  growing  calm.  The  terror 
of  the  last  few  hours  was  like  a  nightmare  which  had 
passed.  He  summoned  a  taxicab  and  was  driven  to 
the  Milan.  His  wanderings  for  the  night  were  over. 


XVIII 

Sophy  Gerard  sat  in  the  little  back  room  of  Louise's 
house,  which  the  latter  called  her  den,  but  which  she 
seldom  entered.  The  little  actress  was  looking  very 
trim  and  neat  in  a  simple  blue-serge  costume  which  fitted 
her  to  perfection,  her  hair  very  primly  arranged  and 
tied  up  with  a  bow.  She  had  a  pen  in  her  mouth,  there 
was  a  sheaf  of  bills  before  her,  and  an  open  housekeep- 
ing-book lay  on  her  knee.  She  had  been  busy  for  the 
last  half-hour  making  calculations,  the  result  of  which 
had  brought  a  frown  to  her  face. 

"  There  is  no  doubt  about  it,"  she  decided.  "  Louise 
is  extravagant ! " 

The  door  opened,  and  Louise  herself,  in  a  gray  morn- 
ing gown  of  some  soft  material,  with  a  bunch  of  deep- 
red  roses  at  her  waist,  looked  into  the  room. 

"  Why,  little  girl,"  she  exclaimed,  "  how  long  have 
you  been  here  ?  " 

"  All  the  morning,"  Sophy  replied.  "  I  took  the 
dogs  out,  and  then  I  started  on  your  housekeeping-book 
and  the  bills.  Your  checks  will  have  to  be  larger  than 
ever  this  month,  Louise,  and  I  don't  see  how  you  can 
possibly  draw  them  unless  you  go  and  see  your  bankers 
first." 

Louise  threw  herself  into  an  easy  chair. 

"  Dear  me !  "  she  sighed.  "  I  thought  I  had  been  so 
careful ! " 

"  How  can  yen  talk  about  being  careful  ?  "  Sophy 


i64  THE  HILLMAN 

protested,  tapping  the  little  pile  of  bills  with  her  fore- 
finger. "  You  seem  to  have  had  enough  asparagus  and 
strawberries  every  day  for  at  least  half  a  dozen  people. 
As  for  the  butcher,  I  am  going  this  afternoon  to  tell 
him  exactly  what  I  think  of  him.  And  there  are  sev- 
eral matters  here,"  she  went  on,  "  concerning  which  you 
must  really  talk  to  the  cook  yourself.  For  instance  — " 

"  Oh,  please  don't !  "  Louise  broke  in.  "  I  know  I 
am  extravagant.  I  suppose  I  always  shall  be;  but  if 
there  is  one  thing  in  the  world  I  will  not  do,  it  is  talk  to 
the  cook!  She  might  insist  upon  going,  and  I  have 
never  known  any  one  who  made  such  entrees.  Remem- 
ber, child,  it  will  be  full  salary  in  a  fortnight's  time." 

"  You  will  have  to  go  and  see  your  bankers,  any- 
how," Sophy  declared.  "  It's  no  use  my  writing  out 
these  checks  for  you.  Unless  you  have  paid  in  some 
money  I  don't  know  anything  about,  you  seem  to  be 
overdrawn  already." 

" 1  will  see  to  that,"  Louise  promised.  "  The  bank 
manager  is  such  a  charming  person.  Besides,  what  are 
banks  for  but  to  oblige  their  clients?  How  pale  you 
look,  little  girl!  Were  you  not  late  last  night?" 

Sophy  swung  round  in  her  place. 

"  I  am  all  right.  I  spent  the  evening  in  my  rooms 
and  went  to  bed  at  eleven  o'clock.  Who's  lunching  with 
you?  I  see  the  table  is  laid  for  two." 

Louise  glanced  at  the  clock  upon  the  mantelpiece. 

"  Mr.  Strangewey,"  she  replied.  *'  I  suppose  he  will 
be  here  in  a  minute  or  two." 

Sophy  dropped  the  housekeeping-book  and  jumped 
up. 

"  I'd  better  go,  then." 

"  Of  course  not,"  Louise  answered.  "  You  must  stay 
to  lunch.  Ring  the  bell  and  tell  them  to  lay  a  place  for 


THE  HILLMAN  165 

you.  Afterward,  if  you  like,  you  may  come  in  here  and 
finish  brooding  over  these  wretched  bills  while  Mr. 
Strangewey  talks  to  me." 

Sophy  came  suddenly  across  the  room  and  sank  on 
the  floor  at  Louise's  feet. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  about  Mr.  Strangewey, 
Louise?  "  she  asked  wistfully. 

"  What  am  I  going  to  do  about  him?  " 

*'  He  is  in  love  with  you,"  Sophy  continued.  "  I  am 
sure  —  I  am  almost  sure  of  it." 

Louise's  laugh  was  unconvincing. 

"  I  do  not  think,"  she  said,  "  that  he  quite  knows  what 
it  means  to  be  in  love." 

Sophy  suddenly  clasped  her  friend's  knees. 

"  Dear,"  she  whispered,  "  perhaps  I  am  a  little  fool, 
but  tell  me,  please ! " 

Louise,  for  a  moment,  was  startled.  Then  she 
leaned  forward  and  kissed  the  eager,  upturned  face. 

**  You  foolish  child !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  I  believe  that 
you  have  been  worrying.  Why  do  you  think  so  much 
about  other  people?  " 

"  Please  tell  me,"  Sophy  begged.  "  I  want  to  un- 
derstand how  things  really  are  between  you  and  John 
Strangewey.  Are  you  in  love  with  him?  " 

Louise's  eyes  were  soft  and  dreamy. 

"  I  wish  I  knew,"  she  answered.  "  If  I  am,  then  there 
are  things  in  life  more  wonderful  than  I  have  ever 
dreamed  of.  He  doesn't  live  in  our  world  —  and  our 
world,  as  you  know,  has  its  grip.  He  knows  nothing 
about  my  art,  and  you  can  guess  what  life  would  be  to 
me  without  that.  What  future  could  there  be  for  him 
and  for  me  together?  I  cannot  remake  myself." 

There  was  something  in  Sophy's  face  which  was  al- 
most like  wonder. 


166  THE  HILLMAN 

"  So  this  is  the  meaning  of  the  change  in  you,  Louise ! 
I  knew  that  something  had  happened.  You  have  seemecl 
so  different  for  the  last  few  months." 

Louise  nodded. 

"  London  has  never  been  the  same  place  to  me  since 
I  first  met  him  in  Cumberland,"  she  admitted.  "  Some- 
times I  think  I  am  —  to  use  your  own  words  —  in  love 
with  John.  Sometimes  I  feel  it  is  just  a  queer,  indis- 
tinct, but  passionate  appreciation  of  the  abstract 
beauty  of  the  life  he  seems  to  stand  for." 

"  Is  he  really  so  good,  I  wonder  ?  "  Sophy  asked  pen- 
sively. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  Louise  sighed.  "  I  only  know  that 
when  I  first  talked  to  him,  he  seemed  different  from  any 
man  I  have  ever  spoken  with  in  my  life.  I  suppose 
there  are  few  temptations  up  there,  and  they  keep  nearer 
to  the  big  things.  Sometimes  I  wonder,  Sophy,  if  it 
was  not  very  wrong  of  me  to  draw  him  away  from  it 
all!" 

"  Rubbish ! "  Sophy  declared.  "  If  he  is  good,  he 
can  prove  it  and  know  it  here.  He  will  come  to  know 
the  truth  about  himself.  Besides,  it  isn't  everything 
to  possess  the  standard  virtues.  Louise,  he  will  be  here 
in  a  minute.  You  want  to  be  left  alone  with  him. 
What  are  you  going  to  say  when  he  asks  you  what  you 
know  he  will  ask  you  ?  " 

Louise  looked  down  at  her. 

"  Dear,"  she  said,  "  I  wish  I  could  tell  you.  I  do 
not  krow.  That  is  the  strange,  troublesome  part  of 
it  —  I  do  not  know !  " 

"Will  you  promise  me  something?"  Sophy  begged. 
'*  Promise  me  that  if  I  stay  in  here  quietly  until  after 
he  has  gone,  you  will  come  and  tell  me ! " 

Louise  leaned  a  little  downward  as  if  to  look  into  her 


THE  HILLMAN  167 

friend's  face.     Sophy  suddenly  dropped  her  eyes,  and 
the  color  rose  to  the  roots  of  her  hair.     There  was  a 
knock  at  the  door,  and  the  parlor  maid  entered. 
"  Mr.  Strangewey,  madam,"  she  announced. 


XIX 

"  There  can  be  no  possible  doubt,"  Louise  remarked, 
as  she  unfolded  her  napkin,  "  as  to  our  first  subject  of 
conversation.  Both  Sophy  and  I  are  simply  dying  of 
curiosity  to  know  about  the  prince's  supper  party." 

"  It  was  very  cheerful  and  very  gay,"  John  said. 
"  Every  one  seemed  to  enjoy  it  very  much." 

"Oh,  la,  la!"  Sophy  exclaimed.  "Is  that  all  you 
have  to  tell  us  ?  I  shall  begin  to  think  that  you  were  up 
to  mischief  there." 

"  I  believe,"  Louise  declared,  "  that  every  one  of  the 
guests  is  sworn  to  secrecy  as  to  what  really  goes  on." 

"  I  can  assure  you  that  I  wasn't,"  John  told  them. 

"  The  papers  hint  at  all  sorts  of  things,"  Sophy  con- 
tinued. "  Every  one  who  writes  for  the  penny  illus- 
trated papers  parades  his  whole  stock  of  classical 
knowledge  when  he  attempts  to  describe  them.  We  read 
of  the  feasts  of  Lucullus  and  Bacchanalian  orgies. 
They  say  that  at  supper-time  you  lie  about  on  sofas 
and  feast  for  four  hours  at  a  stretch." 

"  The  reports  seem  exaggerated,"  John  laughed. 
«  We  went  in  to  supper  at  half  past  twelve  and  we  came 
out  just  before  two.  We  sat  on  chairs,  and  the  con- 
versation was  quite  decorous." 

"This  is  most  disappointing!"  Louise  murmured. 
"  I  cannot  think  why  the  prince  never  invites  us." 

"  The  ladies  of  his  family  were  not  present,"  John  re- 
marked stiffly. 


THE  HILLMAN  169 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.  Louise  had  looked 
down  at  her  plate,  and  Sophy  glanced  out  of  the  win- 
dow. 

"  Is  it  true  that  Calavera  was  there?  "  the  latter 
asked  presently. 

"  Yes,  she  was  there,"  John  replied.  "  She  danced 
after  supper." 

"  Oh,  you  lucky  man !  "  Louise  sighed.  "  She  only 
dances  once  or  twice  a  year  off  the  stage.  Is  she  really 
so  wonderful  close  to  ?  " 

"  She  is,  in  her  way,  very  wonderful,"  John  agreed. 

"  Confess  that  you  admired  her,"  Louise  persisted. 

"  I  thought  her  dancing  extraordinary,"  he  confessed, 
"  and,  to  be  truthful,  I  did  admire  her.  All  the  same, 
hers  is  a  hateful  gift." 

Louise  looked  at  him  curiously  for  a  moment.  His 
face  showed  few  signs  of  the  struggle  through  which 
he  had  passed,  but  the  grim  setting  of  his  lips  reminded 
her  a  little  of  his  brother.  He  had  lost,  too,  something 
of  the  boyishness,  the  simple  light-heartedness  of  the 
day  before.  Instinctively  she  felt  that  the  battle  had 
begun.  She  asked  him  no  more  about  the  supper  party, 
and  Sophy,  quick  to  follow  her  lead,  also  dropped  the 
subject. 

Luncheon  was  not  a  lengthy  meal,  and  immediately 
its  service  was  concluded,  Sophy  rose  to  her  feet  with  a 
sigh. 

"  I  must  go  and  finish  my  work,"  she  declared.  "  Let 
me  have  the  den  to  myself  for  at  least  an  hour,  please, 
Louise.  It  will  take  me  longer  than  that  to  muddle 
through  your  books." 

Louise  nodded  and  rose  to  her  feet. 

"  We  will  leave  you  entirely  undisturbed,"  she 
promised.  "  I  hope,  when  you  have  finished,  you  will 


170  THE  HILLMAN 

have  something  more  agreeable  to  say  than  you  had  be- 
fore lunch.  Shall  we  have  our  coffee  up-stairs  ?  "  she 
suggested,  turning  to  John. 

"  I  should  like  to  very  much,"  he  replied.  "  I  want 
to  talk  to  you  alone." 

She  led  the  way  up-stairs  into  the  cool,  white  drawing- 
room,  with  its  flower-perfumed  atmosphere  and  its  deli- 
cate, shadowy  air  of  repose.  She  curled  herself  up  in  a 
corner  of  the  divan  and  gave  him  his  coffee.  Then  she 
leaned  back  and  looked  at  him. 

"  So  you  have  really  come  to  London,  Mr.  Country- 
man!" 

"  I  have  followed  you,"  he  answered.  "  I  think  you 
knew  that  I  would.  I  tried  not  to,"  he  went  on,  after  a 
moment's  pause.  "  I  fought  against  it  as  hard  as  I 
could ;  but  in  the  end  I  had  to  give  in." 

"  That  was  very  sensible  of  you,"  she  declared 
knocking  the  ash  from  her  cigarette.  "  There  is  no  use 
wearing  oneself  out  fighting  a  hopeless  battle.  You 
know  now  that  there  are  things  in  life  which  are  not  to 
be  found  in  your  passionless  corner  among  the  hills. 
You  have  realized  that  you  owe  a  duty  to  yourself." 

"  That  was  not  what  brought  me,"  he  answered 
bluntly.  "  I  came  for  you." 

Louise's  capacity  for  fencing  seemed  suddenly  en- 
feebled. A  frontal  attack  of  such  directness  was  ir- 
resistible. 

"  For  me !  "  she  repeated  weakly. 

"  Of  course,"  he  replied.  "  None  of  your  arguments 
would  have  brought  me  here.  If  I  have  desired  to  un- 
derstand this  world  at  all,  it  is  because  it  is  your  world. 
It  is  you  I  want  —  don't  you  understand  that?  I 
thought  you  would  know  it  from  the  first  moment  you 
saw  me ! " 


THE  HILLMAN  171 

He  was  suddenly  on  his  feet,  leaning  over  her,  a 
changed  man,  masterful,  passionate.  She  opened  her 
lips,  but  said  nothing.  She  felt  herself  lifted  up, 
clasped  for  a  moment  in  his  arms.  Unresisting,  she 
felt  the  fire  of  his  kisses.  The  world  seemed  to  have 
stopped.  Then  she  tried  to  push  him  away,  weakly, 
and  against  her  own  will.  At  her  first  movement  he 
laid  her  tenderly  back  in  her  place. 

**  I  am  sorry ! "  he  said.  "  And  yet  I  am  not,"  he 
added,  drawing  his  chair  close  up  to  her  side.  "  I  am 
glad!  You  knew  that  I  loved  you,  Louise.  You  knew 
that  it  was  for  you  I  had  come." 

She  was  beginning  to  collect  herself.  Her  brain  was 
at  work  again ;  but  she  was  conscious  of  a  new  confusion 
in  her  senses,  a  new  element  in  her  life.  She  was  no 
longer  sure  of  herself. 

"  Listen,"  she  begged  earnestly.  "  Be  reasonable ! 
How  could  I  marry  you?  Do  you  think  that  I  could 
live  with  you  up  there  in  the  hills  ?  " 

"  We  will  live,"  he  promised,  "  anywhere  you  choose 
in  the  world." 

"  Ah,  no ! "  she  continued,  patting  his  hand.  "  You 
know  what  your  life  is,  the  things  you  want  in  life.  You 
don't  know  mine  yet.  There  is  my  work.  You  cannot 
think  how  wonderful  it  is  to  me.  You  don't  know  the 
things  that  fill  my  brain  from  day  to  day,  the  thoughts 
that  direct  my  life.  I  cannot  marry  you  just  be- 
cause —  because  — " 

"  Because  what?  "  he  interrupted  eagerly. 

"  Because  you  make  me  feel  —  something  I  don't  un- 
derstand, because  you  come  and  you  turn  the  world,  for 
a  few  minutes,  topsyturvy.  But  that  is  all  foolishness, 
isn't  it?  Life  isn't  built  up  of  emotions.  What  I  want 
you  to  understand,  and  what  you,  please,  must  under- 


172  THE  HILLMAN 

stand,  is  that  at  present  our  lives  are  so  far,  so  very  far, 
apart.  I  do  not  feel  I  could  be  happy  leading  yours, 
and  you  do  not  understand  mine." 

"  I  have  come  to  find  out  about  yours,"  John  ex- 
plained. "  That  is  why  I  am  here.  Perhaps  I  ought 
to  have  waited  a  little  time  before  I  spoke  to  you  as  I 
did  just  now.  Come,  you  can  forget  what  I  have  said 
and  done;  but  to  me  it  will  be  an  everlasting  joy.  I 
shall  treasure  the  memory  of  it.  It  will  help  me  —  I 
can't  tell  you  quite  in  what  way  it  will  help  me.  But 
for  the  rest,  I  will  serve  my  apprenticeship.  I  will  try 
to  get  into  sympathy  with  the  things  that  please  you. 
It  will  not  take  me  long.  As  soon  as  you  feel  that  we 
are  drawing  closer  together,  I  will  ask  you  again  what 
I  have  asked  you  this  afternoon.  In  the  meantime,  I 
may  be  your  friend,  may  I  not?  You  will  let  me  see  a 
great  deal  of  you?  You  will  help  me  just  a  little?  " 

Louise  leaned  back  in  her  chair.  She  had  been  car- 
ried off  her  feet,  brought  face  to  face  with  emotions 
which  she  dared  not  analyze.  Perhaps,  after  all  her 
self-dissection,  there  were  still  secret  chambers.  She 
thought  almost  with  fear  of  what  they  might  contain. 
Her  sense  of  superiority  was  vanishing.  She  was,  after 
all,  like  other  women. 

"  Yes,"  she  promised,  "  I  will  help.  We  will  leave  it 
at  that.  Some  day  you  shall  talk  to  me  again,  if  you 
like.  In  the  meantime,  remember  we  are  both  free. 
You  have  not  known  many  women,  and  you  may  change 
your  mind  when  you  have  been  longer  in  London.  Per- 
haps it  will  be  better  for  you  if  you  do !  " 

"  That  is  quite  impossible,"  John  said  firmly.  "  You 
see,"  he  went  on,  looking  at  her  with  shining  eyes,  "  I 
know  now  what  I  half  believed  from  the  first  moment 
that  I  saw  you.  I  love  you !  " 


THE  HILLMAN  173 

Springing  restlessly  to  her  feet,  she  walked  across  the 
room  and  back  again.  Action  of  some  sort  seemed  im- 
perative. A  curious  hypnotic  feeling  seemed  to  be  dull- 
ing all  her  powers  of  resistance.  She  looked  into  her 
life  and  she  was  terrified.  Everything  had  grown  in- 
significant. It  couldn't  really  be  possible  that  with  her 
brains,  her  experience,  this  man  who  had  dwelt  all  his 
life  in  the  simple  ways  had  yet  the  power  to  show  her  the 
path  toward  the  greater  things ! 

Through  the  complex  web  of  emotions  which  made  up 
her  temperament  there  suddenly  sprang  a  primitive  in- 
stinct, the  primitive  instinct  of  all  women,  rebelling 
against  the  first  touch  of  a  master's  hand.  Was  she  to 
find  herself  wrong  and  this  man  right?  Was  she  to 
submit,  to  accept  from  his  hand  the  best  gifts  of  life  — 
she  who  had  looked  for  them  in  such  very  high,  such 
very  inaccessible  places? 

She  felt  like  a  child  again.  She  trembled  a  little  as 
she  sat  down  by  his  side.  It  was  not  in  this  fashion 
that  she  had  intended  to  hear  what  he  had  to  say. 

"  I  don't  know  what  is  the  matter  with  me  to-day," 
she  murmured  distractedly.  "  I  think  I  must  send  you 
away.  You  disturb  my  thoughts.  I  can't  see  life 
clearly.  Don't  hope  for  too  much  from  me,"  she 
begged.  '*  But  don't  go  away,"  she  added,  with  a  sud- 
den irresistible  impulse  of  anxiety.  "  Oh,  I  wish  —  I 
wish  you  understood  me  and  everything  about  me,  with- 
out my  having  to  say  a  word !  " 

"  I  feel  what  you  are,"  he  answered,  *'  and  that  is 
sufficient." 

Once  more  she  rose  to  her  feet  and  walked  across  to 
the  window.  An  automobile  had  stopped  in  the  street 
below.  She  looked  down  upon  it  with  a  sudden  frozen 
feeling  of  apprehension. 


174  THE  HILLMAN 

John  moved  to  her  side,  and  for  him,  too,  the  joy  of 
those  few  moments  was  clouded.  A  little  shiver  of  pre- 
sentiment took  its  place.  He  recognized  the  footman 
whom  he  saw  standing  upon  the  pavement. 

"  It  is  the  Prince  of  Seyre,"  Louise  faltered. 

"  Must  you  see  him  ?  "  John  muttered. 

"Yes!" 

"  Send  him  away,"  John  begged.  "  We  haven't 
finished  yet.  I  won't  say  anything  more  to  upset  you. 
What  I  want  now  is  some  practical  guidance." 

"  I  cannot  send  him  away !  " 

John  glanced  toward  her  and  hated  himself  for  his 
fierce  jealousy.  She  was  looking  very  white  and  very 
pathetic.  The  light  had  gone  from  her  eyes.  He  felt 
suddenly  dominant,  and,  with  that  feeling,  there  came 
all  the  generosity  of  the  conqueror. 

"  Good-by !  "  he  said.  "  Perhaps  I  can  see  you  some 
time  to-morrow." 

He  raised  her  hand  to  his  lips  and  kissed  her  fingers,, 
one  by  one.  Then  he  left  the  room.  She  listened  to 
his  footsteps  descending  the  stairs,  firm,  resolute,  de- 
liberate. They  paused,  there  was  a  sound  of  voices  — 
the  prince  and  he  were  exchanging  greetings ;  then  she 
heard  other  footsteps  ascending,  lighter,  smoother,  yet 
just  as  deliberate. 

Her  face  grew  paler  as  she  listened.  There  was 
something  which  sounded  to  her  almost  like  the  beating 
of  fate  in  the  slow,  inevitable  approach  of  this  unseen 
visitor. 


XX 

Henri  Graillot  had  made  himself  thoroughly  comfort- 
able. He  was  ensconced  in  the  largest  of  John's  easy 
chairs,  his  pipe  in  his  mouth,  a  recently  refilled  teacup 
—  Graillot  was  English  in  nothing  except  his  predilec- 
tion for  tea  —  on  the  small  table  by  his  side.  Through 
a  little  cloud  of  tobacco-smoke  he  was  studying  his  host. 

"  So  you  call  yourself  a  Londoner  now,  my  young 
friend,  I  suppose,"  he  remarked,  taking  pensive  note  of 
John's  fashionable  clothes.  "  It  is  a  transformation, 
beyond  a  doubt !  Is  it,  I  wonder,  upon  the  surface  only, 
or  have  you  indeed  become  heart  and  soul  a  son  of  this 
corrupt  city?" 

"  Whatever  I  may  have  become,"  John  grumbled, 
"  it's  meant  three  months  of  the  hardest  work  I've  ever 
done!" 

Graillot  held  out  his  pipe  in  front  of  him  and  blew* 
away  a  dense  cloud  of  smoke. 

"  Explain  yourself,"  he  insisted. 

John  stood  on  the  hearth-rug,  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets.  His  morning  clothes  were  exceedingly  well- 
cut,  his  tie  and  collar  unexceptionable,  his  hf,ir  closely 
cropped  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  moment.  He 
had  an  extremely  civilized  air. 

"  Look  here,  Graillot,"  he  said,  "  I'll  tell  you  what 
I've  done,  although  I  don't  suppose  you  would  under- 
stand what  it  means  to  me.  I've  visited  practically 
every  theater  in  London." 


176  THE  HILLMAN 

"Alone?" 

"  Sometimes  with  Miss  Maurel,  sometimes  with  her 
little  friend,  Sophy  Gerard,  and  sometimes  alone,"  John 
replied.  "  I  have  bought  a  Baedeker,  taken  a  taxicab 
by  the  day,  and  done  all  the  sights.  I've  spent  weeks  in 
the  National  Gallery,  picture-gazing,  and  I've  done  all 
those  more  modern  shows  up  round  Bond  Street.  I 
have  bought  a  racing-car  and  learned  to  drive  it.  I 
have  been  to  dinner  parties  that  have  bored  me  stiff. 
I  have  been  introduced  to  crowds  of  people  whom  I 
never  wish  to  see  again,  and  made  one  or  two  friends," 
he  added,  smiling  at  his  guest,  "  for  whom  I  hope  I  am 
properly  grateful." 

"  The  prince  has  been  showing  you  round  a  bit,  hasn't 
he?  "  Graillot  grunted. 

"  The  prince  has  been  extraordinarily  kind  to  me," 
John  admitted  slowly,  "  for  what  reason  I  don't  know. 
He  has  introduced  me  to  a  great  many  pleasant  and  in- 
teresting people,  and  a  great  many  whom  I  suppose  a 
young  man  in  my  position  should  be  glad  to  know.  He 
has  shown  me  one  side  of  London  life  pretty  thor- 
oughly." 

"And  what  about  it  all?"  Graillot  demanded. 
*'  You  find  yourself  something  more  of  a  citizen  of  the 
world,  eh  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit,"  John  answered  simply.  "  The  more  I 
see  of  the  life  up  here,  the  smaller  it  seems  to  me.  I 
mean,  of  course,  the  ordinary  life  of  pleasure,  the  life  to 
be  lived  by  a  young  man  like  myself,  who  hasn't  any 
profession  or  work  upon  which  he  can  concentrate  his 
thoughts." 

"  Then  why  do  you  stay  ?  '* 

John  made  no  immediate  reply.  Instead,  he  walked 
to  the  window  of  his  sitting  room  and  stood  looking  out 


THE  HILLMAN  177 

across  the  Thames  with  a  discontented  frown  upon  his 
face.  Between  him  and  the  Frenchman  a  curious 
friendship  had  sprung  up  during  the  last  few  months. 

"  Tell  me,  then,"  Graillot  continued,  taking  a  bite 
from  his  piece  of  cake  and  shaking  the  crumbs  from  his 
waistcoat,  "  what  do  you  find  in  London  to  compensate 
you  for  the  things  you  miss?  You  are  cooped  up  here 
in  this  little  flat  —  you,  who  are  used  to  large  rooms 
and  open  spaces ;  you  have  given  up  your  exercise,  your 
sports  —  for  what?  " 

"  I  get  some  exercise,"  John  protested.  "  I  play 
rackets  at  Ranelagh  most  mornings,  and  I  bought  a 
couple  of  hacks  and  ride  occasionally  in  the  park  before 
you're  out  of  bed." 

"  That's  all  right  for  exercise,"  Graillot  observed. 
"  What  about  amusements  ?  " 

"  Well,  I've  joined  a  couple  of  clubs.  One's  rather  a 
swagger  sort  of  place  —  the  prince  got  me  in  there ;  and 
then  I  belong  to  the  Lambs,  where  you  yourself  go  some- 
times. I  generally  look  in  at  one  or  the  other  of  them 
during  the  evening." 

"  You  see  much  of  Miss  Maurel  ?  " 

John  shook  his  head  gloomily. 

"  Not  as  much  as  I  should  like,"  he  confessed.  "  She 
seems  to  think  and  dream  of  nothing  but  this  play 
of  yours.  I  am  hoping  that  when  it  is  once  produced 
she  will  be  more  free." 

"  I  gather,"  Graillot  concluded,  "  that,  to  put  it  con- 
cisely and  truthfully,  you  are  the  most  bored  man  in 
London.  There  is  something  behind  all  this  effort  of 
yours,  my  friend,  to  fit  yourself,  the  round  human  being, 
into  the  square  place.  Speak  the  truth,  now!  Treat 
me  as  a  father  confessor." 

John  swung  round  upon  his  heel.     In  the  clear  light 


178  THE  HILLMAN 

it  was  obvious  that  he  was  a  little  thinner  in  the  face  and 
that  some  of  the  tan  had  gone  from  his  complexion. 

"  I  am  staying  up  here,  and  going  on  with  it,"  he 
announced  doggedly,  "  because  of  a  woman." 

Graillot  stopped  eating,  placed  the  remains  of  his 
cake  in  the  saucer  of  his  teacup,  and  laid  it  down.  Then 
he  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  balanced  his  finger-tips 
one  against  the  other. 

"  A  woman !  "  he  murmured.  "  How  you  astonish 
me!" 

"Why?" 

"  Candor  is  so  good,"  Graillot  continued,  "  so  stimu- 
lating to  the  moral  system.  It  is  absolute  candor  which 
has  made  friends  of  two  people  so  far  apart  in  most 
ways  as  you  and  myself.  You  surprise  me  simply  be- 
cause of  your  reputation." 

"  What  about  my  reputation  ?  " 

Graillot  smiled  benignly. 

"  In  France,"  he  observed,  "  you  would  probably  be 
offered  your  choice  of  lunatic  asylums.  Here  your 
weakness  seems  to  have  made  you  rather  the  vogue." 

"What  weakness?" 

"  It  is  to  a  certain  extent  hearsay,  I  must  admit," 
Graillot  proceeded ;  "  but  the  report  about  you  is  that, 
although  you  have  had  some  of  the  most  beautiful 
women  in  London  almost  offer  themselves  to  you,  you 
still  remain  without  a  mistress." 

"  What  in  the  world  do  you  mean  ?  "  John  demanded. 

"  I  mean,"  Graillot  explained  frankly,  "  that  for  a 
young  man  of  your  age,  your  wealth,  and  your  appear- 
ance to  remain  free  from  any  feminine  entanglement  is 
a  thing  unheard  of  in  my  country,  and,  I  should  imag- 
ine, rare  in  yours.  It  is  not  so  that  young  men  were 
made  when  I  was  young ! " 


THE  HILLMAN  179 

"  I  don't  happen  to  want  a  mistress,"  John  remarked, 
lighting  a  cigarette.  "  I  want  a  wife." 

"  But  meanwhile  — " 

"  You  can  call  me  a  fool,  if  you  like,"  John  inter- 
rupted. "  I  may  be  one,  I  suppose,  from  your  point 
of  view.  All  I  know  is  that  I  want  to  be  able  to  offer 
the  woman  whom  I  marry,  and  who  I  hope  will  be  the 
mother  of  my  children,  precisely  what  she  offers  me.  I 
want  a  fair  bargain,  from  her  point  of  view  as  well  as 
mine." 

Graillot,  who  had  been  refilling  his  pipe,  stopped  and 
glowered  at  his  host. 

"  What  exactly  do  you  mean  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Surely  my  meaning  is  plain  enough,"  John  replied. 
"  We  all  have  our  peculiar  tastes  and  our  eccentricities. 
One  of  mine  has  to  do  with  the  other  sex.  I  cannot 
make  an  amusement  of  them.  It  is  against  all  my 
prejudices." 

Graillot  carefully  completed  the  refilling  of  his  pipe 
and  lit  it  satisfactorily.  Then  he  turned  once  more  to 
John. 

"  Let  us  not  be  mistaken,"  he  said.  "  You  are  a  pur- 
ist!" 

"  You  can  call  me  what  you  like,"  John  retorted. 
"  I  do  not  believe  in  one  law  for  the  woman  and  another 
for  the  man.  If  a  man  wants  a  woman,  and  we  all  do 
more  or  less,  it  seems  to  me  that  he  ought  to  wait  until 
he  finds  one  whom  he  is  content  to  make  the  mother  of 
his  children." 

Graillot  nodded  ponderously. 

"  Something  like  this  I  suspected,"  he  admitted.  "  I 
felt  that  there  was  something  extraordinary  and  un- 
usual about  you.  If  I  dared,  my  young  friend,  I  would 
write  a  play  about  you ;  but  then  no  one  would  believe 


i8o  THE  HILLMAN 

it.  Now  tell  me  something.  I  have  heard  your  princi- 
ples. We  are  face  to  face  —  men,  brothers,  and 
friends.  Do  you  live  up  to  them?  " 

"  I  have  always  done  so,"  John  declared. 

Graillot  was  silent  for  several  moments.  Then  he 
opened  his  lips  to  speak  and  abruptly  closed  them. 
His  face  suddenly  underwent  an  extraordinary  change. 
A  few  seconds  ago  his  attitude  had  been  that  of  a  pro- 
fessor examining  some  favorite  object  of  study;  now  a 
more  personal  note  had  humanized  his  expression. 
Whatever  thought  or  reflection  it  was  that  had  come 
into  his  mind,  it  had  plainly  startled  him. 

"  Who  is  the  woman  ?  "  he  asked  breathlessly. 

"  There  is  no  secret  about  it,  so  far  as  I  am  con- 
cerned," John  answered.  "  It  is  Louise  Maurel.  I 
thought  you  must  have  guessed." 

The  two  men  looked  at  each  other  in  silence  for  some 
moments.  Out  on  the  river  a  little  tug  was  hooting 
vigorously.  The  roar  of  the  Strand  came  faintly  into 
the  room.  Upon  the  mantelpiece  a  very  ornate  French 
clock  was  ticking  lightly.  All  these  sounds  seemed 
suddenly  accentuated.  They  beat  time  to  a  silence  al- 
most tragical  in  its  intensity. 

Graillot  took  out  his  handkerchief  and  dabbed  his 
forehead.  He  had  written  many  plays,  and  the  dra- 
matic instinct  was  strongly  developed  in  him. 

"  Louise !  "  he  muttered  under  his  breath. 

"  She  is  very  different,  I  know,"  John  went  on,  after 
a  moment's  hesitation.  "  She  is  very  clever  and  a 
great  artist,  and  she  lives  in  an  atmosphere  of  which,  a 
few  months  ago,  I  knew  nothing.  I  have  come  up  here 
to  try  to  understand,  to  try  to  get  a  little  nearer  to 
her." 

There    was    another    silence,    this    time    almost    an 


THE  HILLMAN  181 

awkward  one.  Then  Graillot  rose  suddenly  to  his 
feet. 

"  I  will  respect  your  confidence,"  he  promised,  hold- 
ing out  his  hand.  "  Have  no  fear  of  that.  I  am  due 
now  at  the  theater.  Your  tea  is  excellent,  and  such 
little  cakes  I  never  tasted  before." 

"  You  will  wish  me  good  luck  ?  " 

"  No ! " 

"  Why  not?  "  John  demanded,  a  little  startled. 

"  Because,"  Graillot  pronounced,  "  from  what  I  have 
seen  and  know  of  you  both,  there  are  no  two  people  in 
this  world  less  suitable  for  each  other." 

"  Look  here,"  John  expostulated,  "  I  don't  want  you 
to  go  away  thinking  so.  You  don't  understand  what 
this  means  to  me." 

"  Perhaps  not,  my  friend,"  Graillot  replied,  "  but  re- 
member that  it  is  at  least  my  trade  to  understand  men 
and  women.  I  have  known  Louise  Maurel  since  she  was 
a  child." 

"  Then  it  is  I  whom  you  don't  understand." 

'*  That  may  be  so,"  Graillot  confessed.  "  One  makes 
mistakes.  Let  us  leave  it  at  that.  You  are  a  young 
man  of  undeveloped  temperament.  You  may  be  capa- 
ble of  much  which  at  present  I  do  not  find  in  you." 

"  Tell  me  the  one  quality  in  which  you  consider  me 
most  lacking,"  John  begged.  "  You  think  that  I  am 
narrow,  too  old-fashioned  in  my  views?  Perhaps  I  am, 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  I  am  very  anxious  to  learn  and 
absorb  all  that  is  best  in  this  wider  life.  You  can't 
really  call  me  prejudiced.  I  hated  the  stage  before  I 
came  to  London,  but  during  the  last  few  months  no  one 
has  been  a  more  assiduous  theatergoer.  I  understand 
better  than  I  did,  and  my  views  are  immensely  modified. 
I  admit  that  Louise  is  a  great  artist,  I  admit  that  she 


i82  THE  HILLMAN 

has  wonderful  talents.  I  am  even  willing,  if  she  wished 
it,  to  allow  her  to  remain  for  a  time  upon  the  stage. 
What  could  I  say  more?  I  want  you  on  my  side,  Grail- 
lot." 

"  And  I,"  Graillot  replied,  as  he  shook  his  friend's 
hand  and  hurried  off,  "  want  only  to  be  on  the  side  that 
will  mean  happiness  for  you  both." 

He  left  the  room  a  little  abruptly.  John  walked 
back  to  the  window,  oppressed  with  a  sense  of  something 
almost  ominous  in  the  Frenchman's  manner,  something 
which  he  could  not  fathom,  against  which  he  struggled 
in  vain.  Side  by  side  with  it,  there  surged  into  his  mem- 
ory the  disquietude  which  his  present  relations  with 
Louise  had  developed.  She  was  always  charming  when 
she  had  any  time  to  spare  —  sometimes  almost  affec- 
tionate. On  the  other  hand,  he  was  profoundly  con- 
scious of  her  desire  to  keep  him  at  arm's  length  for  the 
present. 

He  had  accepted  her  decision  without  a  murmur. 
He  made  but  few  efforts  to  see  her  alone,  and  when  they 
met  he  made  no  special  claim  upon  her  notice.  He  was 
serving  his  apprenticeship  doggedly  and  faithfully.  Yet 
there  were  times  like  the  present  when  he  found  his  task 
both  hateful  and  difficult. 

He  walked  aimlessly  backward  and  forward,  chafing 
against  the  restraint  of  the  narrow  walls  and  the  low 
ceiling.  A  sudden  desire  had  seized  him  to  fly  back  to 
the  hills,  wreathed  in  mist  though  they  might  be;  to 
struggle  on  his  way  through  the  blinding  rain,  to  drink 
down  long  gulps  of  his  own  purer,  less  civilized  atmos- 
phere. 

The  telephone-bell  rang.  He  placed  the  receiver  to 
his  ear  almost  mechanically. 

"Who  is  it?"  he  asked. 


THE.HILLMAN  183 

"Lady  Hilda  Mulloch  is  asking  for  you,  sir,"  the 
hall-porter  announced. 

Lady  Hilda  peered  around  John's  room  through  her 
lorgnette,  and  did  not  hesitate  to  express  her  dissatis- 
faction. 

"  My  dear  man,"  she  exclaimed,  "  what  makes  you 
live  in  a  hotel?  Why  don't  you  take  rooms  of  your  own 
and  furnish  them?  Surroundings  like  these  are  de- 
structive to  one's  individuality." 

"  Well,  you  see,"  John  explained,  as  he  drew  an  easy 
chair  up  to  the  fire  for  his  guest,  "  my  stay  in  London 
is  only  a  temporary  one,  and  it  hasn't  seemed  worth 
while  to  settle  anywhere." 

She  stretched  out  her  graceful  body  in  front  of  the 
fire  and  raised  her  veil.  She  was  very  smartly  dressed, 
as  usual.  Her  white-topped  boots  and  white  silk  stock- 
ings, which  she  seemed  to  have  no  objection  to  display- 
ing, were  of  the  latest  vogue.  The  chinchilla  around 
her  neck  and  in  her  little  toque  was  most  becoming. 
She  seemed  to  bring  with  her  an  atmosphere  indefinable, 
in  its  way,  but  distinctly  attractive.  Brisk  in  her 
speech,  a  little  commanding  in  her  manner,  she  was  still 
essentially  feminine. 

John,  at  her  direct  invitation,  had  called  upon  her 
once  or  twice  since  their  meeting  at  the  opera,  and  he 
had  found  her,  from  the  first,  more  attractive  than  any 
other  society  woman  of  his  acquaintance.  None  the 
less,  he  was  a  little  taken  aback  at  her  present  visit. 

"  Exactly  why  are  you  here,  anyhow  ? "  she  de- 
manded. "  I  feel  sure  that  Eugene  told  me  the  reason 
which  had  brought  you  from  your  wilds,  but  I  have  for- 
gotten it." 

"  For  one  thing,"  John  replied,  "  I  have  come  be» 


i84  THE  HILLMAN 

cause  I  don't  want  to  appear  prejudiced,  and  the  fact 
that  I  had  never  spent  a  month  in  London,  or  even  a 
week,  seemed  a  little  narrow-minded." 

"What's  the  real  attraction?"  Lady  Hilda  asked. 
"  It  is  a  woman,  isn't  it?  " 

"  I  am  very  fond  of  a  woman  who  is  in  London,"  Joh-j 
admitted.  "  Perhaps  it  is  true  that  I  am  here  on  her 
account." 

Lady  Hilda  withdrew  from  her  muff  a  gold  cigarette- 
case  and  a  little  box  of  matches. 

"  Order  some  mixed  vermuth  with  lemon  for  me, 
please,"  she  begged.  "  I  have  been  shopping,  and  I 
hate  tea.  I  don't  know  why  I  came  to  see  you.  I  sud- 
denly thought  of  it  when  I  was  in  Bond  Street." 

"  It  was  very  kind  of  you,"  John  said.  **  If  I  had 
known  that  you  cared  about  seeing  me,  I  would  have 
come  to  you  with  pleasure.'* 

"What  does  it  matter?"  she  answered.  "You  are 
thinking,  perhaps,  that  I  risk  my  reputation  in  coming 
to  a  young  man's  rooms?  Those  things  do  not  count 
for  me.  Ever  since  I  was  a  child  I  have  done  exactly 
as  I  liked,  and  people  have  shrugged  their  shoulders  and 
said,  '  Ah,  well,  it  is  only  Lady  Hilda ! '  I  have  been 
six  months  away  from  civilization,  big-game  shooting, 
and  haven't  seen  a  white  woman.  It  didn't  matter,  be- 
cause it  was  I.  I  traveled  around  the  world  with  a  most 
delightful  man  who  was  writing  a  book,  but  it  didn't 
affect  my  reputation  in  the  slightest.  I  am  quite  con- 
vinced that  if  I  chose  to  take  you  off  to  Monte  Carlo 
with  me  next  week  and  spend  a  month  with  you  there,  I 
should  get  my  pass  to  the  royal  enclosure  at  Ascot 
when  I  returned,  and  my  invitation  to  the  next  court 
ball,  even  in  this  era  of  starch.  You  see,  they  would 
say,  « It  is  only  Lady  Hilda ! '  " 


THE  HILLMAN  185 

The  waiter  brought  the  vermuth,  which  his  visitor 
sipped  contentedly. 

"  So  there  is  a  woman,  is  there  ?  "  she  went  on,  look- 
ing across  the  room  at  her  companion.  "  Have  you 
committed  yourself  already,  then?  Don't  you  remem- 
ber what  I  told  you  the  first  night  we  met  after  the 
opera  —  that  it  is  well  to  wait  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  remember,"  John  admitted. 

"  I  meant  it." 

He  laughed  good-humoredly,  yet  not  without  some 
trace  of  self-consciousness. 

"  The  mischief  was  done  then,"  he  said. 

"  Couldn't  it  be  undone?  "  she  asked  lazily.  "  Or 
are  you  one  of  those  tedious  people  who  are  faithful 
forever?  Fidelity,"  she  continued,  knocking  the  ash 
from  her  cigarette,  "  is  really,  to  my  mind,  the  most 
bourgeois  of  vices.  It  comes  from  a  want  of  elasticity 
in  the  emotional  fibres.  Nothing  in  life  has  bored  me 
so  much  as  the  faithfulness  of  my  lovers." 

"  You  ought  to  put  all  this  into  one  of  your  books," 
John  suggested. 

"  I  probably  shall,  when  I  write  my  reminiscences," 
she  replied.  "  Tell  me  about  this  woman.  And  don't 
stand  about  in  that  restless  way  at  the  other  end  of  the 
room.  Bring  a  chair  close  to  me  —  there,  close  to  my 
side ! " 

John  obeyed,  and  his  visitor  contemplated  him 
thoughtfully  through  a  little  cloud  of  tobacco-smoke. 

"  Yes,"  she  decided,  "  there  is  no  use  denying  it. 
You  are  hatefully  good-looking,  and  somehow  or  other  I 
think  your  clothes  have  improved  you.  You  have  a  lit- 
tle more  air  than  when  you  first  came  to  town.  Are 
you  quite  sure  that  you  haven't  made  up  your  mind 
about  this  woman  in  a  hurry?  " 


i86  THE  HILLMAN 

"  Quite  sure,"  John  laughed.  "  I  suppose  I  am 
rather  an  idiot,  but  I  am  addicted  to  the  vice  of  which 
you  were  speaking." 

She  nodded. 

"  I  should  imagine,"  she  said,  "  that  you  were  not  an 
adept  in  the  art  of  flirtation.  Is  it  true  that  the 
woman  is  Louise  Maurel?  " 

"  Quite  true,"  John  replied. 

"  But  don't  you  know  — " 

She  broke  off  abruptly.  She  saw  the  face  of  the  man 
by  her  side  suddenly  change,  and  her  instinct  warned 
her  of  the  danger  into  which  she  was  rushing. 

"  You  surprise  me  very  much,"  she  said.  "  Louise 
Maurel  is  a  very  wonderful  woman,  but  she  seems  to 
spend  the  whole  of  her  time  with  my  cousin,  the  prince." 

"  They  are,  without  doubt,  very  friendly,"  John  as- 
sented. "  They  have  a  good  many  interests  in  common, 
and  the  prince  is  connected  with  the  syndicate  which 
finances  the  theater.  I  do  not  imagine,  however,  that 
the  prince  wishes  to  marry  her,  or  she  him." 

Lady  Hilda  began  to  laugh,  softly,  but  as  if  genu- 
inely amused.  John  sat  and  watched  her  in  ominous 
silence.  Not  the  flicker  of  a  smile  parted  his  set  lips. 
His  visitor,  however,  was  undisturbed.  She  leaned  over 
and  patted  his  hand. 

"  Simple  Simon ! "  she  murmured,  leaning  a  little  to- 
ward him.  "  If  you  go  looking  like  that,  I  shall  pat 
your  cheeks,  too.  You  are  really  much  too  nice-look- 
ing to  wear  such  thunderclouds !  " 

*'  Perhaps  if  we  chose  some  other  subject  of  conversa- 
tion — "  John  said  stiffly. 

"  Oh,  dear  me !  "  she  interrupted.  "  Very  well !  You 
really  are  a  most  trying  person,  you  know.  I  put  up 
with  a  great  deal  from  you." 


THE  HILLMAN  187 

John  was  silent.  Her  face  darkened  a  little,  and  aji 
angry  light  flashed  in  her  eyes. 

"  Well,  I'll  leave  you  alone,  if  you  like,"  she  decided, 
tossing  her  cigarette  into  the  grate.  "  If  my  friend- 
ship isn't  worth  having,  let  it  go.  It  hasn't  often  been 
offered  in  vain.  There  are  more  men  in  London  than  I 
could  count  who  would  go  down  on  their  knees  for  such 
a  visit  as  I  am  paying  you.  And  you  —  you,"  she 
added,  with  a  little  tremble  of  real  anger  in  her  tone, 
"  you're  too  hatefully  polite  and  priggish !  Come  and 
ring  the  bell  for  the  lift.  I  am  going !  " 

She  slid  gracefully  to  her  feet,  shook  the  cigarette  ash 
from  her  clothes,  and  picked  up  her  muff. 

"  You  really  are  an  egregious,  thick-headed,  obstinate 
countryman,"  she  declared,  as  she  moved  toward  the 
door.  "  You  haven't  either  manners  or  sensibility.  I 
am  a  perfect  idiot  to  waste  my  time  upon  you.  I 
wouldn't  have  done  it,"  she  added,  as  he  followed  her 
dumbly  down  the  corridor,  "  if  I  hadn't  rather  liked 
you!" 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  he  declared.  "  I  don't  know 
quite  what  I  have  done.  I  do  appreciate  your  friend- 
ship. You  have  been  very  kind  to  me  indeed." 

She  hesitated  as  his  finger  touched  the  bell  of  the  lift, 
and  glanced  at  the  watch  on  her  wrist. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  if  you  want  to  be  friends,  I  will 
give  you  one  last  chance.  I  am  doing  what  sounds 
rather  a  ghastly  thing  —  I  am  having  a  little  week-end 
party  down  at  my  cottage  at  Bourne  End.  It  will  be 
rather  like  camping  out,  but  some  interesting  people  are 
coming.  Will  you  motor  down  on  Saturday  evening 
and  stay  till  Sunday  night  or  Monday?  " 

"  I  shall  be  very  pleased  indeed,"  John  replied.  "  It 
is  very  good  of  you  to  ask  me.  When  I  come,  I'd  like, 


i88  THE  HILLMAN 

if  I  may,"  he  went  on,  "  to  tell  you  about  myself,  and 
why  I  am  here,  and  about  Louise." 

She  sighed,  and  watched  the  top  of  the  lift  as  it  came 
up.  Then  she  dropped  her  veil. 

"  You  will  find  me,"  she  assured  him,  as  she  gave  him 
the  tips  of  her  fingers,  "  a  most  sympathetic  listener." 

Louise  and  Sophy  came  to  dine  that  evening  with 
John  in  the  grill-room  at  the  Milan.  They  arrived  a 
little  late  and  were  still  in  morning  clothes.  Louise  was 
looking  pale  and  tired,  and  her  greeting  was  almost  list- 
less. 

"  We  are  dead  beat,"  Sophy  exclaimed.  "  We've 
been  having  a  secret  rehearsal  this  afternoon  without 
Graillot,  and  he  came  in  just  as  we  were  finishing.  He 
was  perfectly  furious  !  " 

"  He  was  here  to  tea  with  me,"  John  remarked,  as  he 
led  the  way  to  their  table. 

"  My  dear  man,"  Louise  exclaimed,  "  if  you  could 
have  kept  him  half  an  hour  longer  you'd  have  earned 
our  undying  gratitude  1  You  see,  there  are  several  lit- 
tle things  on  which  we  shall  never  agree,  he  and  myself 
and  the  rest  of  the  company ;  so  we  decided  to  run  over 
certain  passages  in  the  way  we  intend  to  do  them,  with- 
out him.  Of  course,  he  saw  through  it  all  when  he  ar- 
rived, tore  up  his  manuscript  on  the  stage,  and  gen- 
erally behaved  like  a  madman." 

"  I  am  sorry,"  John  said,  as  they  took  their  seats 
and  he  handed  Louise  the  menu  of  the  dinner  that  he 
had  ordered.  "  Won't  the  play  be  produced  to-mor- 
row night,  then  ?  " 

"  Oh,  it  will  be  produced  all  right,"  Louise  told  him ; 
'*  but  you  don't  know  how  we've  all  worn  ourselves  out, 
trying  to  make  thaf  old  bear  see  reason.  We've  had  to 


THE  HILLMAN  189 

give  way  on  one  scene,  as  it  is.  What  a  delightful  lit- 
tle dinner,  John !  You're  spoiling  us.  You  know  how 
I  love  that  big  white  asparagus.  And  strawberries, 
too !  Well,  I  think  we've  earned  it  anyhow,  Sophy !  " 

"  You  have,"  the  latter  declared.  "  You  were  the 
only  one  who  could  soothe  Graillot  at  all." 

"  I  can  get  my  way  with  most  people,"  Louise  re- 
marked languidly ;  "  but  it  simply  means  that  the  more 
difficult  they  are,  the  more  you  have  to  spend  yourself 
in  getting  it.  John,"  she  went  on,  after  a  moment's 
pause,  "you  are  coming  to-morrow  night,  I  sup- 
pose? " 

"  Of  course.  Didn't  I  take  my  box  two  months 
ago  ?  " 

"  And  now  that  my  part  after  the  first  act  has  been 
cut  out,  I  am  coming  with  him,"  Sophy  put  in.  "I 
may,  mayn't  I  ?  " 

"  Of  course,"  John  assented. 

Louise  sighed  dejectedly. 

"I  am  not  at  all  sure  that  I  shall  like  having  you 
there,"  she  said.  "  I  shouldn't  be  at  all  surprised  if  it 
made  me  nervous." 

He  laughed  incredulously. 

"  It's  all  very  well,"  she  went  on,  watching  the  cham- 
pagne poured  in  to  her  glass,  "  but  you  won't  like  the 
play,  you  know." 

"  Perhaps  I  sha'n't  understand  it  altogether,"  John 
agreed.  "  It's  very  subtle,  and,  as  you  know,  I  don't 
find  problem  plays  of  that  sort  particularly  attractive ; 
but  with  you  in  it,  you  can't  imagine  that  I  sha'n't  find 
it  interesting ! " 

"  We  were  talking  about  it,  coming  up  in  the  taxi," 
Louise  continued,  "  and  we  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
you'd  hate  it.  We've  had  to  give  way  to  Graillot  with 


'igo  THE  HILLMAN 

regard  to  the  last  act.     Of  course,  there  is  really  noth- 
ing  in  it,  but  I  don't  know  just  what  you  will  say." 

"  Well,  you  needn't  be  afraid  that  I  shall  stand  up 
in  my  box  and  order  the  performance  to  cease,"  John 
assured  them,  smiling.  "  Besides,  I  am  not  quite  such 
an  idiot,  Louise.  I  know  very  well  that  you  may  have 
to  say  and  do  things  on  the  stage  which  in  private  life 
would  offend  your  taste  and  your  sense  of  dignity.  I 
am  quite  reconciled  to  that.  I  am  prepared  to  accept 
everything  you  do  and  everything  that  you  say. 
[There!  I  can't  say  more  than  that,  can  I?  " 

Louise  smiled  at  him  almost  gratefully.  She  drew 
her  hand  over  his,  caressingly. 

[  "  You  are  a  dear !  "  she  declared.  "  You've  really 
made  me  feel  much  more  comfortable.  Now  please  tell 
me  what  you  have  been  doing  all  day." 

"  Well,  Graillot  came  in  and  spent  most  of  the  after- 
noon," John  answered.  "  Since  then,  Lady  Hilda  Mul- 
loch  has  been  here." 

Louise  looked  up  quickly. 

"  What,  here  in  your  rooms  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  ask  her,"  John  said.  "  I  have  been  to  see 
her  once  or  twice,  and  she  has  been  very  nice,  but  I 
never  dreamed  of  her  coming  here." 

"  Shameless  hussy ! "  Sophy  exclaimed,  as  she  set 
down  her  wine-glass.  "  Didn't  you  tell  her  that  Louise 
and  I  are  the  only  two  women  in  London  who  have  the 
entree  to  your  rooms  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  it  didn't  occur  to  me  to  tell  her  that," 
'John  confessed,  smiling.  "  All  the  same,  I  was  sur- 
prised to  see  her.  It  was  just  a  whim,  I  think." 

"  She  is  a  clever  woman,"  Louise  sighed.  "  She  won't 
know  me  —  I  can't  imagine  why.  She  is  a  cousin  of  the 
prince,  too,  you  know." 


THE  HILLMAN  191 

"  She  is  very  amusing,"  John  agreed.  "  I  have  met 
some  interesting  people  at  her  house,  too.  She  has 
asked  me  down  to  Bourne  End  for  this  next  week-end  — 
the  week-end  you  are  spending  with  Mrs.  Faraday,"  he 
continued,  glancing  toward  Louise. 

Louise  nodded.     She  looked  at  John  critically. 

"  Quite  a  success  in  town,  isn't  he  ?  "  she  remarked  to 
Sophy.  "  People  tumble  over  one  another  to  get  invi- 
tations for  her  week-end  parties  in  the  season.  I  must 
say  I  never  heard  of  going  down  to  Bourne  End  in  Feb- 
ruary, though." 

"  The  idea  seemed  rather  pleasant  to  me,"  John  con- 
fessed. "  So  many  of  you  people  know  nothing  of  the 
country  except  just  in  the  summer !  " 

"  If  John  gets  talking  about  the  country,"  Louise 
said,  "  we  shall  not  be  allowed  our  proper  share  in  the 
conversation  for  the  rest  of  the  evening.  The  question 
is,  are  we  to  allow  him  to  go  down  to  Bourne  End? 
Lady  Hilda  isn't  exactly  a  Puritan  where  your  sex  is 
concerned,  you  know,  John." 

"  She'll  expect  you  to  flirt  with  her,"  Sophy  in- 
sisted. 

"  She  won't,"  John  replied.  "  I  have  told  her  that 
I  am  in  love  with  Louise." 

"  Was  there  ever  such  a  man  in  the  world  ?  "  Louise 
exclaimed.  "  Tell  me,  what  did  Lady  Hilda  say  to 
that?" 

"  Not  much,"  he  answered.  "  She  suggested  that 
her  cousin  had  a  prior  claim  on  you." 

Louise  laid  down  her  knife  and  fork.  Her  left  hand 
clutched  the  piece  of  toast  which  was  lying  by  her  side. 
She  began  to  crumble  it  up  into  small  pieces. 

"  What  did  Lady  Hilda  say  exactly  ?  "  she  insisted. 

"  Nothing  much,"  John  replied.     "  She  seemed  sur- 


iga  THE  HILLMAN 

prised  when  I  mentioned  your  name.  I  asked  her  why, 
and  she  told  me,  or  rather  she  hinted,  that  you  and  the 
prince  are  very  great  friends." 

"  Anything  more?  " 

"  Nothing  at  all.  I  pointed  out  that  the  prince  is  in- 
terested in  theatrical  affairs,  and  that  he  is  the  chief 
member  of  the  syndicate  that  runs  the  theaters.  She 
seemed  to  understand." 

There  was  a  brief  silence.  Louise  was  once  more 
looking  a  little  tired.  She  changed  the  subject 
abruptly,  and  only  returned  to  it  when  John  was  driv- 
ing home  with  her. 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  said,  after  a  long  silence,  "  I 
am  not  at  all  sure  that  I  want  you  to  go  to  Lady  Hil- 
da's!" 

"  Then  I  won't,"  he  promised  with  alacrity.  "  I'll  do 
just  as  you  say." 

Louise  sat  quite  still,  thinking,  looking  through  the 
rain-splashed  windows  of  the  taxicab. 

"You  have  only  to  say  the  word,"  John  continued. 
"  I  should  be  flattered  to  think  that  you  cared." 

"  It  isn't  that.  Lady  Hilda  is  very  clever,  and  she 
is  used  to  having  her  own  way.  I  am  afraid !  " 

"Afraid  of  what?" 

"  Of  nothing,"  Louise  declared  suddenly.  "  Go,  by 
all  means,  John.  I  am  simply  a  little  idiot  when  I  give 
way  for  a  moment  to  such  poisonous  thoughts.  Lady 
Hilda  can  say  what  she  likes  about  anybody  or  any- 
thing. It  really  doesn't  matter  at  all  whether  you  go 
to  Bourne  End  or  not." 

"  I  don't  quite  understand  you,"  John  confessed ; 
*  but  if  you  mean  that  you  are  afraid  of  anything  Lady 
.Hilda  might  say  to  me  about  you,  why,  I  feel  inclined 
to  laugh  at  you.  Lady  Hilda,"  he  added,  with  a  touch 


THE  HILLMAN  193 

of  intuition,  "  is  far  too  clever  a  woman  to  make  such  a 
mistake." 

"  I  believe  you  are  right,"  Louise  agreed.  "  I  shall 
pin  my  faith  to  Lady  Hilda's  cleverness  and  to  your 
—  fidelity.  Go  and  spend  your  week-end  there,  by  all 
means.  I  only  wish  I  wasn't  bound  to  go  to  the  Fara- 
days',  but  that  can't  possibly  be  helped.  Come  and 
lunch  with  me  on  Monday,"  she  added  impulsively.  "  It 
seems  a  long  time  since  we  had  a  little  talk  together." 

He  suddenly  held  her  to  him,  and  she  met  his  lips  un- 
resistingly. It  was  the  first  time  he  had  even  attempted 
anything  of  the  sort  for  months. 

"  You  are  a  dear,  John,"  she  said,  a  little  wistfully. 
"  I  am  terribly  divided  in  my  thoughts  about  you.  Just 
now  I  feel  that  I  have  only  one  wish  —  that  I  could  give 
you  all  that  you  want,  all  that  you  deserve !  " 

He  was  very  loverlike.  She  was  once  more  a  slight, 
quivering  thing  in  his  arms. 

"  Why  need  we  wait  any  longer  ?  "  he  begged.  "  If 
we  told  everyone  to-night  —  to-morrow  —  the  Fara- 
days  would  not  expect  you  to  keep  your  engagement." 

She  shook  herself  free  from  him,  but  her  smile  was 
almost  a  compensation.  The  taxicab  had  stopped  op- 
posite her  door,  and  her  servant  came  hurrying  out. 

"  Until  Monday ! "  she  murmured. 


XXI 

Early  on  the  following  morning  John  glided  out  of 
Ixmdon  in  his  two-seated  racing-car,  on  his  way  to 
'Bourne  End.  The  white  mist  that  hung  over  the 
Streets  and  parks  and  obscured  the  sky  passed  away  as 
he  left  the  suburbs  behind  him.  With  his  first  glimpse 
of  the  country  came  a  welcome  change.  There  were 
little  flecks  of  blue  in  the  firmament  above  him,  a  distinct 
if  somewhat  watery  sunshine,  and  a  soft  buoyancy  in 
the  air,  almost  an  anticipation  of  spring. 

John  leaned  back  in  his  seat,  filled  with  an  unexpected 
sense  of  contentment.  After  all,  this  week-end  visit 
would  probably  turn  out  to  be  pleasant  enough,  and  on 
Monday  night  the  play  was  to  be  produced  at  last.  He 
felt  that  for  weeks  Louise  had  been  living  in  an  atmos- 
phere of  high  tension.  He  himself  had  begun  to  realize 
the  nervous  excitement  of  a  first  night,  when  the  work 
of  many  months  is  at  last  presented  in  its  concrete 
form.  He  was  content  to  believe  that  all  that  had  de- 
pressed him  in  Louise's  demeanor  had  been  due  to  this 
«ause  —  to  anxiety  about  her  success,  to  the  artistic 
(dissatisfaction  evolved  by  the  struggle  between  her  de- 
sire to  conform  to  the  prejudices  of  the  critics  and  her 
wish  to  present  truthfully  the  work  of  the  great  French 
dramatist.  Once  it  was  all  over  and  the  verdict  given, 
relaxation  would  come.  He  was  content  to  wait. 

He  had  no  trouble  in  finding  Lady  Hilda's  cottage 
in  Bourne  End  —  a  long,  white  bungalow-looking  build- 


THE  HILLMAN  195 

ing,  surrounded  by  a  little  stream  which  led  down  to  the 
river.  A  man  servant  took  his  dressing  case  from  the 
back  of  the  car  and  showed  him  the  way  to  the  garage. 
Lady  Hilda  herself  came  strolling  up  the  lawn  and 
waved  her  hand. 

"  Now  what  about  my  week-end  on  the  river?  "  she 
exclaimed,  as  they  shook  hands.  "  Isn't  it  delightful  ? 
I  have  ordered  lunch  early  —  do  you  mind  ?  —  and  I 
thought,  if  you  felt  energetic,  it's  not  too  cold  for  you 
to  take  me  out  on  the  river ;  or,  if  you  feel  lazy,  I'll  take 
you." 

"  I  am  not  much  of  an  oarsman,"  John  told  her, 
"  but  I  certainly  won't  ask  you  to  pull  me  about !  " 

She  led  him  into  the  little  dining  room  and  answered 
the  question  in  his  eyes  when  he  saw  the  table  laid  for 
two. 

"  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Dauncey  are  coming  down  this 
afternoon,"  she  said,  "  and  my  brother  Fred  will  be  here 
in  time  for  dinner.  I  wired  to  Mrs.  Henderson  —  the 
woman  who  writes  novels,  you  know  —  to  come  down, 
too,  if  she  can,  but  I  haven't  heard  from  her.  I  have 
been  looking  at  the  river  this  morning,  and  it's  almost 
like  glass ;  and  I  can  see  little  specks  of  green  in  the 
flower-beds  where  my  bulbs  are  coming  up.  Richards 
will  show  you  your  room  now,  if  you  like,  and  we'll  have 
lunch  in  ten  minutes." 

John  found  his  cottage  bedroom,  with  its  view  of  the 
river,  delightful,  and  at  luncheon  Lady  Hilda  showed 
him  the  side  of  herself  that  he  liked  best.  She  talked  of 
her  travels,  and  of  big-game  shooting.  Afterward  they 
sauntered  out  to  the  stream,  and  John,  selecting  the 
more  stable  of  the  two  boats  moored  to  the  little  land- 
ing-stage, pulled  out  into  the  river.  Lady  Hilda,  in  a 
fur  coat,  leaned  back  on  a  pile  of  cushions  and  watched 


ig6  THE  HILLMAN 

him,  with  a  cigarette  between  her  lips.  He  found  the 
exercise  stimulating  and  delightful.  Some  of  the  color 
which  he  had  lost  came  back  to  his  cheeks. 

"  Aren't  you  sorry,"  she  asked  him  once,  as  they 
paused  to  look  across  a  vista  of  green  meadows  toward 
a  distant  range  of  hills,  "  for  the  people  who  see  noth- 
ing in  the  country  except  in  summer?  Look  at  those 
lines  of  bare,  sad  trees,  the  stillness  of  it  all,  and  yet 
the  softness ;  and  think  what  it  will  soon  be,  think  what 
there  is  underneath,  ready  to  burst  into  life  as  the  weeks 
go  on!  I  always  come  down  here  early,  just  to  watch 
the  coming  of  springtime.  That  wood  to  our  left,  with 
its  bare,  brown  undergrowth,  will  soon  show  little  flushes 
of  pinky-yellow,  and  then  a  few  days  more  sunshine  and 
the  primroses  will  be  there.  And  you  see,  higher  up, 
that  wood  where  the  trees  stand  so  far  apart?  A  little 
later  still,  the  wild  hyacinths  will  be  like  a  blue  carpet 
there.  In  the  garden  we  begin  with  little  rings  of  white 
snowdrops ;  then  the  crocuses  come  up  in  lines,  yellow 
and  purple ;  and  the  daffodils ;  and  then,  on  those  beds 
behind,  the  hyacinths.  When  the  wind  blows  from  the 
south,  the  perfume  of  them,  as  you  pass  down  the  river, 
is  simply  wonderful.  Be  careful,  if  you  are  turning 
round.  There's  a  strong  current  here." 

John  nodded.  He  was  watching  his  hostess  a  little 
curiously. 

"  I  had  no  idea,"  he  said  simply,  "  that  you  cared 
about  flowers  and  that  sort  of  thing." 

She  threw  her  cigarette  away  and  looked  at  him  for 
a  moment  without  speaking. 

"  You  see,  you  don't  really  understand  me  very  well," 
she  remarked. 

The  twilight  was  coming  on  as  they  turned  into  their 
own  little  stream,  and  gleams  of  light  shot  from  the 


THE  HILLMAN  197 

windows  of  the  few  houses  that  were  open.  As  they 
strolled  up  the  lawn,  they  could  see  a  rose-shaded  lamp 
and  a  silver  tea-equipage  set  out  in  Lady  Hilda's  sit- 
ting room. 

"  No  one  arrived  yet,  I  see,"  she  remarked  carelessly, 
as  they  entered  the  cottage.  "  I'll  play  you  a  game  of 
billiards  as  soon  as  we  have  had  tea." 

John,  who  had  thoroughly  enjoyed  his  exercise,  sat 
in  a  low  chair  by  her  side,  drank  innumerable  small  cups 
of  tea,  and  ate  buttered  toast  in  thin  strips.  When 
they  had  finished,  Lady  Hilda  rose. 

"  Go  and  knock  the  balls  about  for  a  few  minutes," 
she  begged.  "  I  am  going  to  put  on  a  more  comfort- 
able gown.  If  the  Daunceys  come,  you  can  entertain 
them.  I  played  a  round  of  golf  this  morning  before 
you  came." 

John  made  his  way  into  the  comfortable  billiard 
room,  at  one  end  of  which  a  wood  fire  was  burning,  lit  a 
cigarette,  and  took  out  a  cue.  Presently  Lady  Hilda 
returned.  She  was  wearing  a  rose-colored  tea-gown, 
and  once  more  John  caught  a  glimpse  of  something  in 
her  eyes,  as  she  looked  at  him,  which  puzzled  him. 

"  I  am  a  little  gaudy,  I  am  afraid,"  she  laughed,  as 
she  took  a  cue  from  the  rack,  "  but  so  comfortable ! 
How  many  will  you  give  me  in  a  hundred  ?  " 

"  I  have  never  seen  you  play,"  John  reminded  her. 
"  I  am  not  much  good  myself." 

They  played  two  games,  and  John  had  hard  work  to 
escape  defeat.  As  they  were  commencing  the  third, 
the  butler  entered  the  room,  bearing  a  telegram.  Lady 
Hilda  took  it  from  the  salver,  glanced  at  it,  and  threw  it 
into  the  fire. 

"  What  a  nuisance ! "  she  exclaimed.  "  The  Daun- 
ceys can't  come." 


i§8  THE  HILLMAN 

John,  who  was  enjoying  himself  very  much,  mur- 
mured only  a  word  or  two  of  polite  regret.  He  had 
never  got  over  his  distaste  for  meeting  strangers. 

"  Can't  be  helped,  I  suppose,"  Lady  Hilda  remarked. 
"  There  is  nothing  from  Flo  Henderson  yet.  We'll 
have  one  more  game,  and  then  I'll  ring  her  up." 

They  played  another  game  of  billiards,  and  sat  by 
the  fire  for  a  little  while.  The  silence  outside,  and  the 
air  of  repose  about  the  place,  were  delightful  to  John 
after  several  months  of  London. 

"  I  wonder  you  ever  leave  here,"  he  said. 

She  laughed  softly. 

"  You  forget  that  I  am  a  lone  woman.  Solitude,  as 
our  dear  friend  wrote  in  her  last  novel,  is  a  paradise 
for  two,  but  is  an  irritant  for  one." 

There  was  a  short  silence.  For  the  first  time  since 
his  arrival  John's  tranquillity  was  a  little  disturbed. 
There  was  something  almost  pathetic  in  the  expression 
which  had  flashed  for  a  moment  over  his  hostess's  face. 
Was  she  really  lonely,  he  wondered?  Perhaps  she  had 
some  sort  of  unhappy  love  history  underneath  her 
rather  hard  exterior.  He  was  disposed  just  then  to 
judge  the  whole  world  charitably,  and  he  had  never  be- 
lieved the  stories  which  people  were  so  anxious  to  tell  of 
her.  He  felt  no  desire  to  pursue  the  subject. 

"  I  have  never  read  any  of  Mrs.  Henderson's  books," 
he  remarked. 

She  stretched  out  an  arm,  took  a  volume  from  the 
swinging  table  by  her  side,  and  threw  it  across  to  him. 

"  You  can  glance  through  that  while  you  dress,"  she 
said. 

A  gong  rang  through  the  house  a  few  moments  later, 
and  the  butler  brought  in  two  cocktails  on  a  little  silver 
tray. 


THE  HILLMAN  199 

"  We  are  having  quite  a  solitude  a  deux,  aren't  we  ?  " 
Lady  Hilda  remarked,  as  she  raised  her  glass.  "  I'll  go 
and  ring  up  Flo  on  my  way  up-stairs." 

They  parted  a  few  minutes  later,  and  John  went  up 
to  his  room.  He  found  his  clothes  carefully  laid  out, 
a  bright  fire  burning,  and  a  bath-room  leading  from  his 
bedroom.  He  dressed  in  somewhat  leisurely  fashion, 
and  the  dinner-gong  rang  as  he  descended  the  stairs. 
He  could  hear  Lady  Hilda's  voice  talking  on  the  tele- 
phone, and  made  his  way  to  her  little  room.  She  had 
just  laid  down  the  receiver. 

"  It  seems,"  she  said,  "  that  you  and  I  are  the  only 
people  who  appreciate  the  country  at  this  time  of  the 
year.  I  have  just  been  talking  to  Flo.  She  declares 
that  nothing  in  the  world  would  tempt  her  down  here. 
She  is  convinced  that  all  the  trees  are  dropping  with 
damp,  and  that  the  mud  is  inches  deep.  She  won't  be- 
lieve a  single  word  about  the  sunshine." 

"  She  isn't  coming,  then?  " 

Lady  Hilda  shook  her  head. 

"  Fred  is  our  last  hope  as  a  chaperon,"  she  remarked 
carelessly,  as  she  took  his  arm.  "  I  expect  he'll  turn 
up  later." 

Dinner  —  which,  as  John  observed  when  they  entered 
the  room,  was  laid  only  for  two  —  was  served  at  a 
small,  round  table  drawn  pleasantly  up  to  the  fire. 
John,  who  had  never  admired  his  hostess  more,  put  all 
disquieting  thoughts  behind  him  and  thoroughly  en j  oyed 
the  dainty  meal.  The  pleasant  warmth  of  the  room, 
the  excellent  champagne,  and  Lady  Hilda's  amusing 
conversation,  unlocked  his  tongue.  He  talked  much 
more  freely  than  usual  of  his  life  in  Cumberland,  of  the 
various  half-formed  plans  which  he  had  made  as  to  the 
spending  of  his  unexpected  fortune,  of  the  new  pleasure 


200  THE  HILLMAN 

he  found  in  motoring,  of  his  almost  pathetic  efforts  to 
understand  and  appreciate  the  town  life  which  at  heart 
he  hated.  A  clever  listener,  like  most  good  talkers, 
Lady  Hilda  frequently  encouraged  him  with  a  sympa- 
thetic word  or  two. 

They  were  sitting  over  their  coffee  and  liqueurs  in 
two  great  easy  chairs  drawn  up  to  the  fire,  when  John 
glanced  at  the  clock  with  a  little  start. 

"  Why,  it's  nearly  ten  o'clock ! "  he  exclaimed. 
"  What  on  earth  can  have  become  of  your  brother?  " 

Almost  as  he  spoke  the  telephone-bell  rang.  It  stood 
on  a  little  table  behind  him.  Lady  Hilda,  who  was 
leaning  back  in  her  chair  in  an  attitude  of  luxurious  re- 
pose, pointed  lazily  to  it. 

"  Answer  it  for  me,  there's  a  dear  man,"  she  begged. 

John  took  up  the  receiver.  He  recognized  the  voice 
at  once  —  it  was  Lady  Hilda's  brother  who  spoke. 

"  I  say,  is  Lady  Hilda  there  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  where  are  you?  "  John  replied.  "  I  am  John 
Strangewey.  We  have  been  expecting  you  all  the  eve- 
ning." 

"  Expecting  me  ?  "  was  the  reply.  "  What  on  earth 
are  you  talking  about  ?  And  what  are  you  doing  in  the 
wilderness  ?  " 

"  I  am  spending  the  week-end  with  your  sister,"  John 
replied.  "  I  understood  that  you  were  coming." 

The  young  man  at  the  other  end  laughed  derisively. 

"  Something  better  to  do,  old  chap !  "  he  said.  "  I 
am  dining  with  Flo  Henderson  —  just  speaking  from 
her  flat.  Send  Hilda  along,  there's  a  good  fellow." 

John  turned  around.  His  eyes  met  Lady  Hilda's, 
and  he  understood.  He  handed  the  receiver  to  her  in 
silence.  Of  the  conversation  which  passed  he  scarcely 
heard  a  ^ord.  As  soon  as  it  began,  in  fact,  he  left  the 


THE  HILLMAN  201 

room  and  went  across  the  hall  to  the  billiard  room. 
The  lights  were  already  lit,  and  cues,  ready  chalked, 
were  standing  by  the  table. 

John  went  through  a  few  moments  of  dismayed  won- 
der. He  glanced  out  of  the  window  toward  the  garage, 
which  was  all  in  darkness.  He  heard  the  soft  sweep  of 
Lady  Hilda's  skirts  across  the  hall,  the  closing  of  the 
door  as  she  entered.  Her  eyes  met  his,  as  he  turned 
around,  with  something  of  challenge  in  them.  Her  lips 
were  curved  in  a  faintly  ironical  smile. 

"  Well?  "  she  exclaimed,  a  little  defiantly.  "  Shall  I 
telephone  to  London  for  a  chaperon  ?  " 

'*  Not  unless  you  think  it  necessary,"  John  replied, 
suddenly  feeling  the  fire  of  battle  in  his  blood.  "  I  can 
assure  you  that  I  am  to  be  trusted.  On  the  other  hand, 
if  you  prefer  it,  I  can  motor  back  to  town ;  or  I  can  go 
to  the  inn,  and  come  and  take  you  on  the  river  in  the 
morning." 

It  was  obvious  that  she  was  a  little  surprised.  She 
came  over  to  him,  put  her  hands  upon  the  billiard  table, 
and  looked  up  into  his  face. 

"  Don't  be  a  goose,"  she  begged,  "  and  please  don't 
imagine  foolish  things.  I  suppose  my  telegram  to  Fred 
must  have  gone  wrong.  Anyhow,  I  don't  think  we  need 
anybody  else.  We've  got  along  very  well  so  far  to-day, 
haven't  we  ?  " 

"  I've  enjoyed  every  moment  of  it,"  John  declared 
cheerfully,  "  and  I  am  looking  forward  more  than  I  can 
tell  you  to  beating  you  at  billiards,  to  sleeping  once 
more  with  my  windows  wide  open  and  no  smuts,  and  to 
having  another  pull  on  that  river  in  the  morning.  Let 
me  give  you  fifteen  this  time.  I  want  to  play  my  best !  " 

She  took  up  her  cue  with  a  little  sigh  of  half-puzzled 
relief.  They  played  two  games,  the  second  one  at 


202  THE  HILLMAN 

John's  insistence.  Then  the  butler  brought  in  whisky 
and  soda. 

"Is  there  anything  further  to-night,  madam?"  he 
asked,  after  he  had  arranged  the  tray. 

"  Nothing,"  Lady  Hilda  answered.  "  You  can  go  to 
bed." 

They  played  the  last  game  almost  in  silence.  Then 
Lady  Hilda  replaced  her  cue  in  the  rack  and  threw  her- 
self into  one  of  the  easy  chairs. 

"  Bring  me  a  whisky-and-soda,"  she  said.  "  We'll 
have  one  cigarette  before  we  go  to  bed." 

John  obeyed  her,  and  sat  by  her  side.  She  looked  at 
him  a  little  questioningly.  His  unhesitating  accept- 
ance of  the  situation  had  puzzled  her.  There  was  noth- 
ing but  the  slightest  change  in  his  manner  to  denote  his 
realization  of  the  fact  that  the  house-party  was  a  sham. 

"  I  believe  you  are  cross,"  she  exclaimed  suddenly. 

"  On  the  contrary,"  John  replied,  "  I  have  had  a 
thoroughly  delightful  day." 

"You  don't  like  people  who  tell  fibs,"  she  went  on. 
'*  You  know  quite  well,  now,  that  my  house-party  was  a 
farce.  I  never  asked  the  Daunceys,  I  never  sent  a  tele- 
gram to  Fred.  It  was  simply  rotten  luck  that  he  rang 
me  up.  I  asked  you  down  here  to  spend  the  week-end 
with  me  —  alone." 

He  looked  her  in  the  face,  without  the  slightest 
change  of  expression. 

"  Then  I  think  that  it  was  exceedingly  nice  of  you," 
he  said,  "  and  I  appreciate  the  compliment.  Really," 
he  went  on,  with  a  smile,  "  I  think  we  are  quite  safe, 
aren't  we?  You  are  known  as  a  man-hater,  and  you 
are  allowed  special  privileges  because  you  are  what  you 
are.  And  I  am  known  to  be  in  love  with  another 
woman." 


THE  HILLMAN  203 

She  frowned  slightly. 

"  Does  the  whole  world,  then,  know  of  jour  infatua- 
tion? "  she  asked. 

"  It  may  know,  for  all  I  care,"  John  replied  simply. 
"  I  am  hoping  that  after  Monday  Louise  will  let  me  an- 
nounce it." 

There  was  a  short  silence.  A  portion  of  the  log  fell 
to  the  hearth,  and  John  carefully  replaced  it  upon  the 
fire. 

"  Do  you  remember,"  she  asked,  dropping  her  voice 
almost  to  a  whisper,  "  what  I  said  to  you  the  first  night 
we  met  at  Covent  Garden,  before  I  had  any  particular 
interest  in  you,  before  I  had  come  to  like  you  ?  " 

John  made  no  reply.  Why  did  she  again  remind  him 
of  what  she  had  said  that  night? 

"  I  advised  you,"  she  went  on,  "  not  to  be  too  rash. 
I  think  I  told  you  that  there  were  better  things." 

"  There  is  no  better  thing  in  the  world,"  John  said 
simply,  "  than  to  give  every  feeling  of  which  you  are 
capable  to  the  woman  you  love." 

She  frowned  and  threw  her  cigarette  into  the 
hearth. 

"  You  talk,"  she  declared,  "  either  like  George  Alex- 
ander on  the  stage,  or  like  a  country  bumpkin!  Why 
doesn't  some  one  teach  you  the  manners  of  civilized 
life?" 

"  Lady  Hilda,"  he  replied,  "  I  am  past  teaching. 
You  see,  the  fact  of  it  is  that  a  country  bumpkin  is  ex- 
actly what  I  am." 

She  turned  her  white  shoulder  away  from  him. 

"You  will  find  a  candle  on  the  hall  table,"  she 
snapped. 

John  rose  at  once  to  his  feet. 

"  It's  your  delightful   country  air,  I  suppose,"  he 


204  THE  HILLMAN 

said.  "  I  am  sorry  if  I  betrayed  my  sleepiness,  how- 
ever. Good  night ! " 

Lady  Hilda  made  no  answer.  John  looked  backward 
from  the  door.  She  had  kicked  off  her  slipper  and  was 
warming  her  foot  before  the  fire. 

"  Good  night !  "  he  repeated.  "  I  am  going  to  wake 
like  a  giant  in  the  morning,  and  pull  you  just  as  far  as 
you  like  up  the  river !  " 

He  closed  the  door,  lit  a  candle,  and  made  his  way 
to  his  room.  As  soon  as  he  was  there  he  locked  the 
door  and  flung  the  window  wide  open.  Resting  his  el- 
bows upon  the  window-sill,  he  looked  out  at  the  soft, 
misty  darkness.  He  had  the  sensation  of  having  been 
through  some  undignified  fight,  in  which  even  victory 
savored  of  shame.  He  felt  a  quivering  consciousness, 
half  indignant,  half  irritated,  of  having  been  forced  into 
an  impossible  situation. 

Presently  he  began  to  undress.  He  moved  about  on 
tiptoe,  and  found  himself  continually  listening.  He 
heard  Lady  Hilda  come  out  from  the  billiard  room  be- 
low, heard  her  strike  a  match  as  she  lit  a  candle,  heard 
her  coming  up  the  stairs.  He  stood  quite  still.  Sud- 
denly he  saw  the  handle  of  his  door  turned  softly  — 
once,  and  then  again.  He  watched  it  with  fascinated, 
almost  horrified  eyes.  The  door  was  shaken  slightly. 
A  voice  from  outside  called  him. 

"Goodnight!" 

He  made  no  reply.  The  handle  ceased  to  rattle. 
He  heard  retreating  footsteps,  the  opening  and  closing 
of  Lady  Hilda's  door. 


XXII 

John  was  awakened  the  next  morning  by  the  sound  of 
rain  against  his  window.  He  got  out  of  bed  and  looked 
upon  a  scene  of  desolation.  The  clouds  hung  low,  and 
rain  was  coming  down  in  level  sheets.  The  lawns  and 
gardens  which  yesterday  had  had  the  air  of  waiting  for 
the  spring  were  to-day  a  sudden  wilderness. 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  the  butler  brought 
in  his  tea. 

"  Lady  Hilda  sends  her  compliments,  sir,"  he  an- 
nounced, "  and  as  the  morning  is  so  unfavorable  she  will 
not  rise  until  eleven  o'clock.  Breakfast  will  be  ready 
down-stairs  at  half  past  nine,  or  can  be  served  in  your 
room." 

"  Thank  you,  I'll  come  down,"  John  replied. 

He  bathed  and  shaved  himself,  he  even  packed  his  own 
clothes.  Then  he  left  the  room,  descending  the  stairs 
softly,  and  glancing  furtively  at  the  door  of  Lady  Hil- 
da's room  with  an  air  almost  of  a  guilty  schoolboy. 
He  breakfasted  alone  and  spent  the  morning  in  the 
billiard  room  until  Lady  Hilda  appeared. 

"  I  am  a  terrible  hostess,  am  I  not?  "  she  said  apolo- 
getically, as  she  opened  the  cjoor ;  "  but  what  is  there 
to  be  done  ?  The  weather  is  too  hopeless,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Appalling !  "  John  agreed.  "  Still,  it's  very  com- 
fortable in  here,  and  I  have  just  made  a  seventy-one 
break." 

"  We'll  have   a   two   hundred  and   fifty   up  —  that. 


206  THE  HILLMAN 

ought  to  last  until  lunch-time,"  she  suggested,  throw- 
ing herself  into  a  chair.  "  Give  me  ten  minutes,  will 
you?  This  weather  is  so  depressing.  Even  the  effort 
of  getting  up  seems  to  have  tired  me." 

She  threw  herself  into  an  easy  chair,  and  John  tried 
to  concentrate  his  attention  upon  the  balls.  More  than 
once,  however,  he  glanced  across  at  his  hostess.  She 
was  looking  older  this  morning,  paler,  her  face  a  little 
drawn,  her  eyes  large  and  soft.  She  sat  looking  into 
the  fire;  on  her  knee  were  some  letters,  at  which  she 
scarcely  glanced.  Presently  she  threw  them  aside  and 
rang  the  bell. 

"  Bring  me  a  brandy-and-soda  and  the  cigarettes," 
she  told  the  butler.  "  Now,  Mr.  Strangewey,  I  am 
ready,"  she  went  on,  turning  to  John.  "  Give  me  fifty 
in  two  hundred  and  fifty,  if  you  dare ! " 

"  We'll  try,"  he  agreed. 

They  played  until  lunch-time,  both  affecting  a  rapt 
interest  in  the  game.  At  the  sound  of  the  gong  Lady 
Hilda  laid  down  her  cue. 

'*  We'll  finish  later,"  she  suggested. 

John  strolled  to  the  window.  There  were  some  signs 
of  clearing  in  the  sky,  although  the  whole  place  seemed 
still  to  reek  of  moisture. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  shall  have  to  start  soon  after  lunch," 
he  said.  "  It  will  take  some  time  to  get  up  to  town. 
I  am  not  a  very  experienced  driver,  and  my  car  is  a 
little  inclined  to  skid  on  wet  roads." 

She  made  no  remark,  and  to  both  of  them  the  pres- 
ence of  servants  during  the  meal  appeared  to  be  some- 
what of  a  relief.  The  coffee  and  liqueurs,  however, 
again  were  served  in  the  billiard  room,  and  there  was  a 
very  awkward  silence.  For  some  time  Lady  Hilda  had 
baffled  his  efforts  at  ordinary  conversation,  and  his  last 


THE  HILLMAN  207 

few  remarks  about  the  weather  she  had  ignored  alto- 
gether. 

"  So  you  are  going  up  this  evening?  "  she  said  at  last. 

"  This  afternoon,  if  you  don't  mind,"  he  replied, 
glancing  at  the  clock,  and  thinking  of  the  bliss  with 
which  he  would  turn  his  car  out  into  the  road.  "  I  ex- 
plained, didn't  I,  that  I  had  an  engagement  this  even- 
ing?" 

"  Quite  right,"  she  admitted.  "  All  the  same,  you 
are  rather  an  inconsiderate  guest,  aren't  you,  to  leave 
me  here  alone  in  this  swamp  ?  " 

"Come,  too?"  he  suggested.     "I'll  motor  you  up." 

"  Thanks,"  she  replied,  "  I  will." 

He  was  a  little  taken  aback,  but,  after  all,  it  was  per- 
haps the  simplest  way  out  of  his  difficulties. 

"  I'll  take  you,  with  pleasure,  if  you  don't  mind  be- 
ing drenched." 

"  I  can  stand  physical  discomforts,"  she  said.  "  It's 
the  other  sort  of  knocks  that  bruise." 

"  It  won't  be  so  bad,"  he  continued,  ignoring  her  last 
speech,  "  if  you  wear  a  mackintosh  and  something  thick 
for  your  head.  Shouldn't  wonder  if  it  cleared  up  pres- 
ently." 

Lady  Hilda  smiled. 

"  I  have  been  out  in  a  shower  in  Patagonia,"  she  re- 
minded him,  "  which  lasted  for  three  weeks.  Will  it 
suit  you  to  start  in  half  an  hour?  " 

"  Any  time  you  like,"  he  agreed. 

She  had  changed  her  position  a  little,  and  he  was 
forced  to  look  at  her. 

"  Mr.  Strangewey,"  she  said,  "  I  want  to  ask  you  a 
question.  Are  you  going  to  marry  Louise  Maurel?  " 

"  I  am,"  he  replied,  without  hesitation ;  "  at  least,  I 
hope  to  do  so." 


2o8  THE  HILLMAN 

She  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  with  a  strange  ex- 
pression. Then  she  rose  to  her  feet.  Her  lips  were 
quivering.  She  leaned  against  the  mantelpiece,  with 
her  forehead  upon  her  arms.  At  first  he  imagined  that 
she  was  going  to  weep ;  then,  to  his  horror,  he  found  that 
she  was  laughing  —  half-hysterically,  perhaps,  but  still 
laughing.  He  drew  a  step  nearer  to  her,  but  she  waved 
him  away. 

"  Sit  down !  "  she  gasped.  "  Oh,  if  I  might  tell  this 
to  Henri  Graillot!  What  a  play!  What  humor! 
My  friend  John  Strangewey,  I  congratulate  you !  You 
have  created  a  new  situation  in  life.  Leave  me  alone, 
please ! " 

She  bent  forward  until  her  face  was  completely  hid- 
den. Her  body  was  shaken.  Once  or  twice  he  fancied 
that  her  laughter  had  turned  to  sobs.  When  at  last 
she  looked  up,  however,  there  were  the  remains  of  an 
almost  devilish  mirth  on  her  lips.  She  rang  the  bell. 

"  That  is  for  my  maid,"  she  said.  "  I  am  now  going 
to  change  my  clothes  and  let  you  motor  me  up  to  Lon- 
don. I  shall  get  some  fresh  air,  at  any  rate,  and  your 
car  always  fills  me  with  longing.  Amuse  yourself,  won't 
you  ?  I  shall  be  an  hour  getting  ready,  and  I  will  order 
an  early  tea." 

"  You  wouldn't  care  to  tell  me,  I  suppose,"  he  asked, 
"  what  is  the  new  situation  in  life  which  you  say  I  have 
created  ? " 

She  turned  to  him  from  the  door.  She  was  really  a 
very  handsome  woman.  Her  lips  were  most  expressive. 

"  My  friend,"  she  said,  "  if  you  knew,  if  you  under- 
stood, the  priceless  humor  of  it  would  be  gone." 

She  closed  the  door  and  left  John  alone.  He  went 
back  to  the  billiard-table,  but  somehow  or  other  his 
skill  seemed  to  have  vanished.  He  had  the  picture  of 


THE  HILLMAN  20$ 

her  face  in  his  mind,  the  subtle  meaning  of  her  lips,  the 
mockery  of  her  eyes. 

They  drove  up  to  London  almost  in  silence.  It  was 
nearly  seven  o'clock  when  John  swung  the  little  car  in 
Pont  Street.  It  was  still  raining  softly. 

"  Thank  you  very  much,"  he  said,  "  for  my  week-end. 
I  enjoyed  the  river  immensely  yesterday  afternoon." 

"  And  thank  you  very  much  for  everything,  Mr.  John 
Strangewey,"  she  returned.  "  You  have  given  me  what, 
we  are  all  sighing  for,  a  new  sensation  —  not  exactly 
what  I  expected,  perhaps,  but  something  new." 

"  I  know  you  think  I  am  a  country  yokel  and  a  fool," 
John  said ;  "  but  I  wish  you'd  tell  me  why  you  laughed 
at  me  in  that  mysterious  fashion." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  It  would  spoil  it,"  she  replied.  "  Besides,  it  isn't 
for  me  to  tell  you.  I  am  the  last  person  who  should." 

They  drew  up  outside  her  little  house,  from  which 
came  no  sign  of  light. 

"  Will  you  dine  with  me  to-night  ?  "  he  asked  sud- 
denly. 

She  turned  toward  him  quickly  —  and  understood. 

"  Very  nice  of  you,"  she  replied  lightly.  **  I  shall  go 
round  to  my  club.  You  don't  agree  with  me,  somehow. 
When  I  look  at  you  or  think  of  you,  I  feel  inclined  either 
to  laugh  or  cry,  and  I  hate  emotions.  Don't  get  out, 
please.  You  see,  they  are  opening  the  door  already." 

She  slipped  away  and  disappeared  into  her  house. 
John  drove  slowly  back  toward  the  Milan.  Just  as  he 
was  turning  in,  a  little  waterproofed  figure  from  the 
pavement  waved  her  hand  and  called  to  him.  He  drew 
up  and  she  hastened  to  his  side. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  "  Sophy  asked.  "  I 
thought  you  were  spending  the  week-end  up  the  river." 


210  THE  HILLMAN 

"  I  stayed  there  last  night,"  he  answered.  "  To-day 
—  well,  look  at  the  weather !  I  have  just  motored  Lady 
Hilda  up." 

"  And  what  are  you  going  to  do  now?  "  she  inquired 
eagerly. 

"  Give  you  some  dinner,"  he  replied  promptly. 

"  Hurrah !  "  she  answered.  "  I  have  been  so  bored 
and  miserable  that  I  went  and  walked  over  Waterloo 
Bridge  in  a  mackintosh,  just  to  get  a  little  air.  I'll  be 
round  in  an  hour.  Will  that  do  ?  " 

"  Any  time  you  like,"  he  agreed ;  "  the  sooner  the 
better.  I  was  almost  wishing,  a  few  minutes  ago,"  he 
went  on,  "  that  I  could  find  the  courage  to  storm  you  in 
your  little  room.  Louise  is  away,  and  I'm  hating  my- 
self." 

"  So  I  am  to  come  and  amuse  my  lord !  "  she  laughed. 
*«  Well,  I'll  come,"  she  went  on  quickly.  "  We'll  sit  and 
you  shall  imagine  that  I  am  Louise,  and  make  love  to 
her.  Will  that  make  you  happy?  " 

John  leaned  out  of  the  car. 

"  Sophy,"  he  whispered,  as  he  slipped  in  his  clutch, 
"  just  now  I  do  not  feel  like  making  love  to  any  woman 
on  earth ! " 

"Fed  up  with  us,  eh?" 

He  nodded. 

"  You're  different,  thank  Heaven !     Don't  be  late." 


xxni 

"  This  is  very  nearly  my  idea  of  perfect  happiness," 
Sophy  murmured,  as  she  leaned  across  the  table  and 
listened  idly  while  John  ordered  the  dinner.  "  Give  me 
very  little  to  eat,  John,  and  talk  a  great  deal  to  me.  I 
am  depressed  about  myself  and  worried  about  every- 
thing!" 

"  And  I,"  he  declared,  "  am  just  beginning  to  breathe 
again.  I  don't  think  I  understand  women,  Sophy." 

"  Wasn't  your  week-end  party  a  success  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Not  altogether,"  he  confessed ;  "  but  don't  let's 
talk  about  it.  Tell  me  what  is  depressing  you." 

"  About  myself,  or  things  generally  ?  " 

'« Yourself,  first." 

"Well,  the  most  respectable  young  man  you  ever 
knew  in  your  life,  who  lives  in  Bath,  wants  me  to  marry 
him.  I  don't  think  I  could.  I  don't  think  I  could  live 
in  Bath,  and  I  don't  think  I  could  marry  any  one.  And 
I've  just  thirteen  shillings  and  fourpence  left,  I  haven't 
paid  my  rent,  and  my  dressmaker  is  calling  for  some- 
thing on  account  on  Monday  morning." 

"  There's  only  one  answer  to  that,"  John  insisted 
cheerfully.  "  I  am  going  to  lend  you  fifty  pounds  while 
you  make  your  mind  up  about  the  young  man." 

She  made  a  face  at  him. 

"  I  couldn't  borrow  money  from  a  strange  gentle- 
man," she  protested. 

"  Rubbish !  "  he  exclaimed.     "  If  you  bcTJn  calling  me 


212  THE  HILLMAN 

&  stranger  —  but  there,  never  mind !  We'll  see  about 
that  after  dinner.  Now  what  is  the  other  cause  for 
depression  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  very  happy  about  you  and  Louise,"  she 
observed. 

"Why  not?" 

She  hesitated.  While  she  seemed  to  be  pondering 
over  her  words,  John  studied  her  almost  critically. 
Unquestionably  she  was  very  pretty ;  her  fair  hair  was 
most  becomingly  arranged,  her  petite  features  and  deli- 
cate mouth  were  charming.  Her  complexion  and  color- 
ing were  exquisite,  her  neck  and  throat  very  white 
against  the  plain  black  satin  of  her  gown. 

"  In  a  way,"  she  confessed  at  last,  "  it's  the  play 
that's  bothering  me." 

"  The  play?  "  he  repeated. 

"  You  won't  like  it,"  she  sighed.  "  The  reason  the 
production  has  been  delayed  so  long  is  Graillot's  in- 
sistence upon  calling  a  spade  a  spade.  Even  with  all 
Louise  and  Miles  Faraday  have  managed  to  get  him  to 
leave  out,  there  is  one  scene  which  is  certainly  a  little 
startling  for  English  playgoers." 

"  And  Louise  is  in  it?  "  he  asked. 

"  Louise  is  the  principal  figure  in  it." 

John's  face  darkened  a  little. 

"  I  have  noticed  lately,"  he  remarked  gloomily,  "  that 
she  rather  avoids  talking  about  the  play.  I  wish  she'd 
chuck  it  altogether !  " 

Sophy  shook  her  head. 

"  Louise  won't  do  that,"  she  said.  "  I  sometimes 
think  that  her  work  is  more  to  her  than  anything  else 
in  life.  I  suppose  you  two  will  find  a  way  out  of  it, 
somehow." 

"  There  is  only  one  way,  and  Louise  will  have  to 


THE  HILLMAN  213 

make  up  her  mind  to  it,"  John  declared  steadfastly. 
"  However,  my  time  hasn't  come  just  yet.  Until  it 
comes,  I  must  make  the  best  of  things.  Tell  me  more 
about  your  own  love-affairs,  Sophy." 

"  It  isn't  a  love-affair  at  all !  "  she  exclaimed,  almost 
indignantly. 

"  Why,  I  am  sorry.  Your  prospective  alliance,  then, 
shall  I  call  it?" 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  interesting,"  she  said.  "  It's  just  a 
young  man  in  Bath.  He  is  a  lawyer  and  moderately 
well  off.  He  has  wanted  me  to  marry  him  for  years. 
He  was  a  friend  of  my  brother's.  Lately  he  has  been 
bothering  a  little  more  than  usual  —  in  fact,  I  suppose 
I  have  received  what  might  be  called  an  ultimatum.  He 
came  up  yesterday,  and  I  went  out  with  him  last  night. 
He  has  gone  back  to  Bath  this  morning,  and  I  have 
promised  to  let  him  know  in  a  month.  I  think  that  is 
why  I  went  out  to  Waterloo  Bridge  in  a  mackintosh  and 
got  wet." 

"  Do  you  like  him?  "  John  asked  practically. 

"  I  like  him,  I  suppose,"  Sophy  sighed.  "  That's 
the  worst  of  it.  If  I  didn't  like  him,  there  might  be 
some  chance.  I  can't  realize  myself  ever  doing  more 
than  liking  him  in  a  mild  sort  of  way;  and  if  he  ex- 
pected more,  as  of  course  he  would,  then  I  should  prob- 
ably hate  him.  He  tried  to  kiss  me  on  the  way  to  the 
station  and  I  nearly  scratched  him.  That  isn't  like 
me,  you  know.  I  rather  like  being  kissed  sometimes." 

John  buried  himself  in  the  wine-list. 

"  Well,"  he  admitted,  "  it  doesn't  sound  very  hope- 
ful. I'm  no  sort  of  judge  in  these  matters,  but  I  have 
heard  lots  of  people  say  that  one  gets  on  all  right  after 
marriage  without  caring  very  much  before.  You  don't 
seem  to  have  a  very  comfortable  life  now,  do  you?  " 


214  THE  HILLMAN 

"  Comfortable  ?  No,  but  I  am  free,"  Sophy  replied 
quickly.  "  I  can  come  in  and  go  out  when  I  please, 
choose  my  own  friends,  give  my  kisses  to  whom  I  please. 
Marriage  —  the  sort  of  marriage  mine  would  be  —  is 
slavery,  and  nothing  else.  What  I  am  afraid  of,"  she 
went  on,  "  is  that  when  I  was  down  in  that  highly  re- 
spectable old  city,  sitting  all  day  in  a  respectable  little 
villa,  with  two  servants  to  order  about  and  housekeep- 
ing-books to  keep,  I  should  feel  the  old  pull  come  over 
me,  and  some  day  I  should  chuck  it  all  and  come  back 
here  to  play  around  under  the  lights.  It's  rather  fine 
to  be  here,  you  know  —  to  be  in  the  atmosphere,  even 
if  the  lime-light  misses  one." 

John  sighed,  and  regarded  her  thoughtfully. 

"  You're  a  queer  little  girl,  Sophy,"  he  said.  "  I 
don't  know  how  to  advise  you." 

"  Of  course  you  don't,"  she  answered.  "  No  one 
could.  As  for  you,  I  suppose  you  will  marry  Louise. 
What  will  happen  to  you  after  that,  I  don't  know. 
Perhaps  I  sha'n't  care  so  much  about  London  then. 
You've  made  it  very  nice  for  me,  you  know." 

"  You've  made  it  bearable  even  for  me,"  he  told  her. 
"  I  often  think  how  lonely  I  should  have  been  without 
you  to  talk  to.  Louise  sometimes  is  delightfully  com- 
panionable, and  kind  enough  to  turn  one's  head.  Other 
days  I  scarcely  understand  her;  everything  we  say  to 
one  another  seems  wrong.  I  come  away  and  leave  her 
simply  because  I  feel  that  there  is  a  wall  between  us  that 
I  can't  get  over." 

"  There  isn't  really,"  Sophy  sighed.  "  Louise  is  a 
dear.  Considering  everything,  I  think  she  is  wonder- 
ful. But  you  are  utterly  different.  She  is  very  com- 
plex, very  emotional,  and  she  has  her  own  standards  of 
life.  You,  on  the  other  hand,  are  very  simple,  very 


THE  HILLMAN  215 

faithful  and  honest,  and  you  accept  the  standards 
which  have  been  made  for  you  —  very,  very  rigidly, 
John." 

"  I  wonder ! "  he  murmured,  as  he  looked  into  his 
wine-glass.  "  Sometimes  I  think  I  am  a  fool.  Some- 
times I  think  I'd  do  better  to  let  go  the  strings  and  just 
live  as  others  do.  Sometimes  ideas  come  into  one's 
head  that  upset  principles  and  everything.  I  don't 
know ! " 

Sophy  leaned  across  the  table  toward  him. 

"  Be  a  little  more  human,  John,"  she  begged.  "  You 
must  feel  kind  things  sometimes.  Couldn't  you  say 
them  ?  I  am  depressed  and  gloomy.  Be  like  other  men, 
for  once,  and  flirt  with  me  a  little !  Try  to  say  things, 
even  if  you  don't  mean  them  —  just  for  once,  for  a  few 
short  hours ! " 

He  held  her  hand  for  a  moment.  The  fingers  seemed 
to  respond  to  his  touch  with  a  little  thrill. 

"  You  silly  child !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  If  I  were  to  be- 
gin to  say  all  the  kind  things  I  feel  about  you  — " 

"  Begin,  then  —  begin !  "  she  interrupted.  "  What 
do  you  think  of  me,  really?  Am  I  pretty?  Do  you 
like  to  have  me  here  at  the  table  with  you,  or  is  your 
mind  too  full  of  Louise?  Do  you  notice  that  I've  a 
pretty  frock  on,  and  my  hair  is  nicely  arranged?  I 
have  taken  so  much  trouble  to-night.  What  are  you 
looking  at  ?  " 

John's  whole  expression  had  suddenly  changed.  His 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  door,  his  face  was  stern  as  a 
granite  block.  Sophy  turned  quickly  around.  The 
maitre  d'hotel,  with  another  satellite  in  his  rear,  was 
welcoming  with  much  ceremony  two  lately  arrived 
guests.  Sophy  clutched  at  the  table-cloth.  The  new- 
comers were  Louise  and  the  Prince  of  Seyre. 


216  THE  HILLMAN 

"  I  don't  understand  this ! "  John  muttered,  his  lips 
twitching. 

Sophy  Gerard  said  nothing.  Her  cheeks  were  pink 
with  excitement. 

Suddenly  Louise  saw  John  and  Sophy.  She  stood 
quite  still  for  a  moment;  then  she  came  toward  them, 
slowly  and  a  little  languidly.  The  prince  was  still 
studying  through  his  eye-glass  the  various  tables  which 
the  head  waiter  was  offering  for  his  consideration. 

"  What  an  astonishing  meeting ! "  Louise  remarked, 
as  she  laid  her  hand  for  a  moment  on  Sophy's  shoulder. 
"  What  is  going  on  behind  my  back  ?  " 

John  rose  very  slowly  to  his  feet.  He  seemed  taller' 
than  ever,  and  Louise's  smile  remained  unanswered. 

"  The  rain  broke  up  my  week-end  party,"  he  ex- 
plained, "  and  I  met  Sophy  in  the  Strand.  In  any  case, 
I  intended  returning  to-night.  I  understood  that  you 
would  not  be  here  until  to-morrow  about  eleven  o'clock." 

"  Those  were  my  plans,"  Louise  replied ;  "  but,  as  you 
see,  other  things  have  intervened.  Our  little  house 
party,  too,  was  broken  up  by  this  abominable  weather, 
and  we  all  motored  up  to  town.  The  Faradays  have 
gone  home.  The  prince  heard  from  Miles  that  I  was  at 
home,  and  telephoned  me  to  dine.  Me  voici!  " 

John  was  struggling  with  a  crowd  of  hateful  thoughts. 
Louise  was  wearing  a  wonderful  gown;  her  hair  was 
beautifully  arranged ;  she  had  the  air  of  a  woman  whose 
toilet  was  complete  and  perfect  down  to  the  slightest 
detail.  The  prince's  slow  drawl  reached  them  dis- 
tinctly. 

"  It  was  my  servant's  fault,  I  suppose,"  he  said. 
"  I  told  him  to  ring  up  last  night  ttnd  order  the  table 
for  two  in  that  corner.  However,  we  will  take  the 
vacant  one  near  your  desk." 


THE  HILLMAN  217 

He  looked  around  and,  as  if  for  the  first  time,  missed 
Louise.  He  came  toward  them  at  once. 

"  The  prince  seems  to  have  ordered  his  table  last 
night,"  John  remarked,  his  tone,  even  to  himself,  sound- 
ing queer  and  strained. 

Louise  made  no  reply.  The  prince  was  already  shak- 
ing hands  with  Sophy. 

"  I  thought  you  were  spending  the  week-end  with  my 
cousin,  Strangewey,"  he  remarked,  turning  to  John. 

"  We  did  spend  part  of  it  together,"  John  replied. 
*'  The  weather  drove  us  back  this  afternoon." 

"  I  congratulate  you  both  on  your  good  taste,"  said 
the  prince.  "  There  is  nothing  more  abominable  than  a 
riverside  retreat  out  of  season.  We  are  taking  the 
table  on  the  left,  Louise." 

He  led  her  away,  and  they  passed  down  the  room. 
John  slowly  resumed  his  seat. 

"  Sophy,"  he  demanded  hoarsely,  "  tell  me  the  truth. 
Is  there  anything  between  the  prince  and  Louise?  " 

Sophy  nervously  crumbled  up  the  toast  by  her  side. 

"  The  prince  admires  Louise,  and  has  done  so  for 
many  years,"  she  answered.  "  No  one  knows  anything 
else.  Louise  never  speaks  of  him  to  me.  I  cannot  tell 
you." 

"  But  you  must  know,"  he  persisted,  with  a  little 
break  in  his  voice.  "  Forgive  me,  Sophy,  if  I  make  an 
ass  of  myself.  First  Lady  Hilda,  and  then  Graillot, 
and  then  —  well,  I  thought  Louise  might  have  rung  up 
to  see  whether  I  was  at  home,  if  she  came  back  sooner 
than  she  expected;  and  the  prince  took  the  table  last 
night!" 

She  leaned  over  and  patted  him  on  the  hand. 

"  Don't  worry,"  she  begged.  "  If  Louise  has  to 
choose  some  day  between  him  and  you,  I  don't  think 


2i8  THE  HILLMAN 

she'll  hesitate  very  long.  And  please  remember  that 
you  were  commencing  to  flirt  with  me.  I  insist  upon  it ! 
I  won't  be  put  off.  Don't  look  so  stern,  please.  You 
look  very  statuesque  and  perfect,  but  I  don't  want  to 
dine  with  a  piece  of  sculpture.  Remember  that  I  am 
really  looking  very  pretty,  and  that  I  am  finding  you 
too  attractive  for  my  peace  of  mind.  There's  your 
text ! " 

He  poured  a  glass  of  wine  and  drank  it  off. 

"  I'll  do  my  best,"  he  agreed.  "  If  it  sounds  like 
rubbish,  you  can  still  believe  that  I  appreciate  every- 
thing you've  told  me.  You  are  pretty,  and  I  am  lucky 
to  have  you  here.  Now  I'll  try  to  make  you  believe  that 
I  think  so." 

She  leaned  over  so  that  her  head  almost  touched  his. 

"  Go  on,  please !  "  she  murmured.  "  Even  if  it  hurts 
afterward,  it  will  be  heavenly  to  listen  to !  " 


XXIV 

The  next  night  Sophy  acted  as  showman.  Her  part 
was  over  at  the  end  of  the  first  act,  and  a  few  minutes 
later  she  slipped  into  a  seat  by  John's  side  behind  the 
curtain. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  it  so  far  ?  "  she  asked,  a  lit- 
tle anxiously. 

"  It  seems  quite  good,"  John  replied  cheerfully. 
"  Some  very  clever  lines,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing;  but 
I  can't  quite  see  what  it's  all  leading  to." 

Sophy  peered  around  the  house  from  behind  the  cur- 
tain. 

"  There  isn't  standing-room  anywhere,"  she  declared. 
'"  I  don't  suppose  there  ever  was  a  play  in  London  that 
was  more  talked  about ;  and  then  putting  it  off  for  more 
than  three  months  —  why,  there  have  been  all  sorts  of 
rumors  about.  Do  you  want  to  know  who  the  people  in 
the  audience  are  ?  " 

"  Not  particularly,"  John  answered.  "  I  shouldn't 
know  them,  if  you  told  me.  There  are  just  a  few 
familiar  faces.  I  see  the  prince  in  the  box  opposite." 

"  Did  you  telephone  to  Louise  to-day  ?  "  Sophy  asked. 

John  shook  his  head. 

"  No.  I  thought  it  better  to  leave  her  alone  until 
after  to-night." 

"  You  are  going  to  the  supper,  of  course?  " 

"  I  have  been  asked,"  John  replied,  a  little  doubtfully. 
**  I  don't  quite  know  whether  I  want  to.  Is  it  being 
given  by  the  prince  or  by  the  management  ?  " 


220  THE  HILLMAN 

"  The  management,"  Sophy  assured  him.  "  Do  come 
and  take  me !  It's  going  to  be  rather  fun." 

The  curtain  went  up  upon  the  second  act.  John, 
from  the  shadows  of  the  box,  listened  attentively.  The 
subject  was  not  a  particularly  new  one,  but  the  writing 
was  brilliant.  There  was  the  old  Marquis  de  Guy,  a 
roue,  a  degenerate,  but  still  overbearing  and  full  of  per- 
sonality, from  whose  lips  came  some  of  Graillot's  most 
brilliant  sayings ;  Louise,  his  wife ;  and  Faraday,  a 
friend  of  the  old  marquis,  and  obviously  the  intended 
lover  of  his  wife. 

"  I  don't  see  anything  so  terrible  in  this,"  John  re- 
marked, as  the  curtain  went  down  once  more  and  thun- 
ders of  applause  greeted  some  wonderful  lines  of  Grail- 
lot's. 

"  It's  wonderful !  "  Sophy  declared.  "  Try  and  bear 
the  thread  of  it  all  in  your  mind.  For  two  acts  you 
have  been  asked  to  focus  your  attention  upon  the  in- 
creasing brutality  of  the  marquis.  Remember  that, 
won't  you?  " 

"  Not  likely  to  forget  it,"  John  replied.  "  How  well 
they  all  act !  " 

There  was  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  interval  before  the 
curtain  rose  again.  Rumors  concerning  the  last  act 
had  been  floating  about  for  weeks,  and  the  house  was 
almost  tense  with  excitement  as  the  curtain  went  up. 
The  scene  was  the  country  chateau  of  the  Marquis  de 
Guy,  who  brought  a  noisy  crowd  of  companions  from 
Paris  without  any  warning.  His  wife  showed  signs  of 
dismay  at  his  coming.  He  had  brought  with  him  women 
whom  she  declined  to  receive. 

The  great  scene  between  her  husband  and  herself  took 
place  in  the  square  hall  of  the  chateau,  on  the  first  floor. 
The  marquis  is  on  the  way  to  the  room  of  one  of  his 


THE  HILLMAN  221 

guests.  Louise  reaffirms  her  intention  of  leaving  the 
house.  Her  husband  laughs  at  her.  Her  position  is 
helpless. 

"  What  can  you  do  ?  "  he  mocks. 

She  shrugs  her  shoulders  and  passes  into  her  room. 
The  marquis  sinks  upon  a  settee,  and  presently  is  joined 
by  one  of  the  ladies  who  have  traveled  with  him  from 
Paris.  He  talks  to  her  of  the  pictures  upon  the  wall. 
She  is  impatient  to  meet  the  Marquis  de  Guy. 

The  marquis  knocks  at  his  wife's  door.  Her  voice  is 
heard  clearly,  after  a  moment's  pause. 

"  In  a  few  minutes !  "  she  replies. 

The  marquis  resumes  his  flirtation.  His  companion 
becomes  impatient  —  the  marquis  has  pledged  his  word 
that  she  should  be  received  by  his  wife.  An  ancient 
enmity  against  the  Marquis  de  Guy  prompts  her  to 
insist. 

The  marquis  shrugs  his  shoulders  and  knocks  more 
loudly  than  ever  at  his  wife's  door.  She  comes  out  — 
followed  by  Faraday. 

"  You  asked  me  what  I  could  do,"  she  says,  pointing 
to  her  lover.  "  You  see  now !  " 

There  was  a  moment's  breathless  silence  through  the 
house.  The  scene  in  itself  was  a  little  beyond  anything 
that  the  audience  had  expected.  Sophy,  who  had  been 
leaning  over  the  edge  of  the  box,  turned  around  in  no 
little  anxiety.  She  heard  the  door  slam.  John  had 
disappeared ! 

He  left  the  theater  with  only  his  hat  in  his  hand, 
turning  up  his  coat  by  instinct  as  he  passed  through 
the  driving  rain.  All  his  senses  seemed  tingling  with 
some  nameless  horror.  The  brilliance  of  the  language, 
the  subtlety  of  the  situation,  seemed  like  some  evil  trail 
drawn  across  that  one  horrible  climax.  It  was  Louise 


222  THE  HILLMAN 

who  had  come  from  that  room  and  pointed  to  Faraday ! 
Louise  who  confessed  herself  a  — 

He  broke  out  into  language  as  he  walked.  The  de- 
sire of  Samson  burned  in  his  heart  —  to  stride  back 
into  the  theater,  to  smash  the  scenery,  to  throw  the 
puppets  from  the  stage,  one  by  one,  to  end  forever  this 
ghastly,  unspeakable  play.  And  all  the  time  the  ap- 
plause rang  in  his  ears.  He  had  read  with  one  swift 
glance  the  tense  interest  —  almost  lascivious,  it  seemed 
to  him  —  on  the  faces  of  that  great  audience.  The 
scene  had  tickled  their  fancies.  It  was  to  pander  to 
such  base  feelings  that  Louise  was  upon  the  stage ! 

He  reached  his  rooms  —  he  scarcely  knew  how  —  and 
walked  up-stairs.  There  he  threw  off  some  of  his  drip- 
ping garments,  opened  the  window  wide,  and  stood 
there. 

He  looked  out  over  the  Thames,  and  there  was  a  red 
fire  before  his  eyes.  Stephen  was  right,  he  told  him- 
self. There  was  nothing  but  evil  to  be  found  here, 
nothing  but  bitter  disappointment,  nothing  but  the  pain 
which  deepens  into  anguish.  Better  to  remain  like  Ste- 
phen, unloving  and  unloved,  to  draw  nearer  to  the 
mountains,  to  find  joy  in  the  crops  and  the  rain  and  the 
sunshine,  to  listen  stonily  to  the  cry  of  human  beings 
as  if  to  some  voice  from  an  unknown  world. 

He  leaned  a  little  further  from  the  window,  and  gazed 
into  the  court  at  a  dizzy  depth  below.  He  had  cut 
himself  adrift  from  the  peace  which  might  have  been 
his.  He  would  never  know  again  the  joys  of  his  earlier 
life.  It  was  for  this  that  he  had  fought  so  many  bat- 
tles, clung  so  tightly  to  one  ideal  —  for  Louise,  who 
could  show  herself  to  any  one  who  cared  to  pay  his 
shilling  or  his  half-guinea,  glorying  in  her  dishonor; 
worse  than  glorying  in  it  —  finding  some  subtle  humor 


THE  HILLMAN  223 

in  the  little  gesture  with  which  she  had  pointed,  un- 
ashamed, to  her  lover. 

John  bent  a  little  lower  from  the  window.  A  sudden 
dizziness  seemed  to  have  come  over  him.  Then  he  was 
forced  to  turn  around.  His  door  had  been  quickly 
opened  and  shut.  It  was  Sophy  who  was  crossing 
toward  him,  the  rain  streaming  from  her  ruined  opera- 
cloak.  , 

"  John !  "  she  cried.     "  Oh,  John !  " 

She  led  him  back  to  his  chair  and  knelt  by  his  side. 
She  held  his  hands  tightly. 

"  You  mustn't  feel  like  this,"  she  sobbed ;  "  you 
mustn't,  John,  really!  You  don't  understand.  It's 
all  a  play.  Louise  wouldn't  really  do  anything  like 
that!" 

He  shivered.  Nevertheless,  he  clutched  her  hands 
and  drew  her  closer  to  him. 

"  Do,  please,  listen  to  me,"  she  begged.  "  It's  all 
over.  Louise  is  herself  again  —  Louise  Maurel.  The 
Marquis  de  Guy  never  lived  except  upon  these  boards. 
It  is  simply  a  wonderful  creation.  Any  one  of  the  great 
actresses  would  play  that  part  and  glory  in  it  —  the 
very  greatest,  John.  Oh,  it's  so  hard  to  make  you  un- 
derstand! Louise  is  waiting  for  you.  They  are  all 
waiting  at  the  supper-party.  You  are  expected.  You 
must  go  and  tell  her  that  you  think  it  was  wonder- 
ful!" 

He  rose  slowly  to  his  feet. 

"Wonderful!"  he  muttered.  "Wonderful!  But, 
child,  it  is  damnable !  " 

"  Don't  be  foolish,"  she  answered.  "  Go  and  put  on 
another  dress  coat,  tie  your  tie  again,  and  brush  your 
hair.  I  have  come  to  take  you  to  the  supper." 

He  caught  at  her  hands  roughly. 


224  THE  HILLMAN 

"  Supposing  I  won't  go  ?  "  he  whispered  hoarsely. 
*'  Supposing  —  I  keep  you  here  instead,  Sophy  ?  " 

She  swayed  for  a  moment.  Something  flashed  into 
•her  face  and  passed  away.  She  was  paler  than  ever. 

"  Dear  John,"  she  begged,  "  pull  yourself  together ! 
Remember  that  Louise  is  waiting  for  you.  It's  Louise 
you  want  —  not  me.  Nothing  that  she  has  done  to- 
night should  make  her  any  the  less  worthy  of  you  and 
your  love." 

He  strode  away  into  the  farther  room.  He  reap- 
peared in  a  moment  or  two,  his  hair  smoothly  brushed, 
his  tie  newly  arranged. 

"  I'll  come,  little  girl,"  he  promised.  "  I  don't  know 
what  I'll  say  to  her,  but  I'll  come.  There  can't  be  any 
harm  in  that !  " 

"  Of  course  not,"  she  answered  cheerfully.  "  You're 
the  most  terrible  goose,  John,"  she  added,  as  they  walked 
down  the  corridor.  "  Do,  please,  lose  your  tragical 
air.  The  whole  world  is  at  Louise's  feet  to-night. 
You  mustn't  let  her  know  how  absurdly  you  have  been 
feeling.  To-morrow  you  will  find  that  every  paper  in 
London  will  be  acclaiming  her  genius." 

John  squared  his  shoulders. 

**  All  the  same,"  he  declared  grimly,  "  if  I  could  burn 
the  theater  and  the  play,  and  lock  up  Graillot  for  a 
month,  to-night,  I'd  do  it  I " 


XXV 

The  days  and  weeks  drifted  into  months,  and  John 
remained  in  London.  His  circle  of  friends  and  his  in- 
terests had  widened.  It  was  only  his  relations  with 
Louise  which  remained  still  unchanged.  Always  charm- 
ing to  him,  giving  him  much  of  her  time,  favoring  him, 
beyond  a  doubt,  more  than  any  of  her  admirers,  there 
was  yet  about  her  something  elusive,  something  which 
seemed  intended  to  keep  him  so  far  as  possible  at  arm's 
length. 

There  was  nothing  tangible  of  which  he  could  com- 
plain, and  this  probationary  period  was  of  his  own  sug- 
gestion. He  bore  it  grimly,  holding  his  place,  when- 
ever it  was  possible,  by  her  side  with  dogged  persistence. 
Then  one  evening  there  was  a  knock  at  his  door,  and 
Stephen  Strangewey  walked  in. 

After  all,  this  meeting,  of  which  John  had  often 
thought,  and  which  sometimes  he  had  dreaded  a  little, 
turned  out  to  be  a  very  ordinary  affair.  Stephen,  al- 
though he  seemed  a  little  taller  and  gaunter  than  ever, 
though  he  seemed  to  bring  into  the  perhaps  overwarmed 
atmosphere  of  John's  little  sitting  room  something  of 
the  cold  austerity  of  his  own  domain,  had  evidently 
come  in  no  unfriendly  spirit.  He  took  both  his  broth- 
er's hands  in  his  and  gripped  them  warmly. 

"  I  can't  tell  you  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you,  Stephen  !  '* 
John  declared. 

"  It  has  been  an  effort  to  me  to  come,"  Stephen  ad- 


226  THE  HILLMAN 

mitted.  ((  But  I  had  it  in  my  mind,  John,  that  we 
parted  bad  friends.  I  have  come  to  see  how  things  are 
with  you." 

"  Well  enough,"  John  answered  evasively.  "  Sit 
down." 

Stephen  held  his  brother  away  from  him,  gripping  his 
shoulders  with  both  hands.  He  looked  steadily  into  his 
face. 

"  Well  enough  you  may  be,  John,"  he  said,  "  but 
your  looks  tell  a  different  story.  There's  a  look  in  your 
eyes  already  that  they  all  get  here,  sooner  or  later." 

"  Nonsense !  "  John  protested  cheerfully.  "  No  one 
pretends  that  the  life  here  is  quite  as  healthy  as  ours, 
physically,  but  that  isn't  everything.  I  am  a  little  tired 
"to-day,  perhaps.  One  spends  one's  time  differently  up 
here,  you  know,  and  there's  a  little  more  call  upon  the 
brain,  a  little  less  upon  the  muscles." 

"  Give  me  an  example,"  Stephen  suggested.  "  What 
were  you  doing  last  night,  for  instance?  " 

John  rang  the  bell  for  some  tea,  took  his  brother's 
hat  and  stick  from  his  hand,  and  installed  him  in  an  easy 
chair. 

"  I  went  to  a  political  meeting  down  in  the  East 
End,"  he  replied.  "  One  of  the  things  I  am  trying  to 
take  a  little  more  interest  in  up  here  is  politics." 

"  No  harm  in  that,  anyway,"  Stephen  admitted. 
"That  all?" 

"  The  meeting  was  over  about  eleven,"  John  con- 
tinued. "  After  that  I  came  up  here,  changed  my 
clothes,  and  went  to  a  dance." 

"  At  that  time  of  night?  " 

John  laughed. 

"  Why,  nothing  of  that  sort  ever  begins  until  eleven 
o'clock,"  he  explained.  "  I  stayed  there  for  about  an 


THE  HILLMAN  227 

hour  or  so,  and  afterward  I  went  round  to  a  club  I  be- 
long to,  with  the  Prince  of  Seyre  and  some  other  men. 
They  played  bridge,  and  I  watched." 

"  So  that's  one  of  your  evenings,  is  it?  "  Stephen  re- 
marked. "  No  great  harm  in  such  doings  —  nor  much 
good,  that  I  can  see.  With  the  Prince  of  Seyre, 
eh?" 

"  I  see  him  occasionally." 

"  He  is  one  of  your  friends  now?  " 

"  I  suppose  so,"  John  admitted,  frowning.  "  Some- 
times I  think  he  is,  sometimes  I  am  not  so  sure.  At  any 
rate,  he  has  been  very  kind  to  me." 

"  He  is  by  way  of  being  a  friend  of  the  young  woman 
herself,  isn't  he  ?  "  Stephen  asked  bluntly. 

"  He  has  been  a  friend  of  Miss  Maurel  since  she  first 
went  on  the  stage,"  John  replied.  "  It  is  no  doubt  for 
her  sake  that  he  has  been  so  kind  to  me." 

"And  how's  the  courting  getting  on?  "  Stephen  de- 
manded, his  steely  eyes  suddenly  intent. 

"  None  too  well,"  John  confessed. 

"  Are  you  still  in  earnest  about  it  ?  " 

"  Absolutely !     More  than  ever !  " 

Stephen  produced  his  pipe  from  his  pocket,  and 
slowly  filled  it. 

"  She  is  keeping  you  dangling  at  her  heels,  and  giving 
you  no  sort  of  answer?" 

"  Well,  I  wouldn't  put  it  quite  like  that,"  John  de- 
clared, good-humoredly.  "  I  asked  her  to  marry  me  as 
soon  as  I  came  up,  and  we  both  agreed  to  wait  for  a 
time.  You  see,  her  life  has  been  so  extraordinarily  dif- 
ferent from  mine.  I  have  only  half  understood  the 
things  which  to  her  are  like  the  air  she  breathes.  She 
is  a  great  artist,  and  I  scarcely  ever  leave  her  without 
feeling  appallingly  ignorant.  Our  life  down  in  Cum- 


228  THE  HILLMAN 

berland,  Stephen,  is  well  enough  in  its  way,  but  it  leaves 
us  outside  many  of  the  great  things  of  life." 

"  That  may  be  true  enough,  boy,"  Stephen  admitted, 
blowing  out  dense  volumes  of  smoke  from  his  pipe ;  "  but 
are  you  sure  that  it's  toward  those  great  things  that  she 
is  pointing  you?  " 

"  I  am  sure  of  it,"  John  answered  earnestly.  "  I  ap- 
preciate that  in  my  heart.  Let  us  talk  together,  Ste- 
phen, as  we  used.  I  will  admit  that  I  have  found  most 
of  the  time  up  here  wearisome.  On  the  other  hand,  I 
am  beginning  to  understand  that  I  have  been,  and  still 
am,  very  ignorant.  There  is  so  much  in  the  world  that 
one  can  only  learn  by  experience." 

"  And  what  are  you  willing  to  pay  for  the  knowl- 
edge ?  "  Stephen  asked.  "  Your  health,  I  suppose,  your 
simple  life,  your  love  of  the  pure  ways  —  all  these  are  to 
go  into  the  melting-pot  ?  " 

"  There's  no  such  payment  demanded  for  the  things 
I  am  thinking  of,"  John  assured  his  brother.  "  Take 
art,  for  instance:  We  reach  the  fringe  of  it  with  our 
books.  There  are  pictures,  even  here  in  London,  which 
when  you  look  at  them,  especially  with  one  who  under- 
stands, give  a  new  vigor  to  your  understanding,  a  new 
resource  to  living.  You  become  conscious  of  a  new 
beauty  in  the  world,  a  new  garden,  as  it  were,  into  which 
one  can  wander  every  day  and  yet  not  explore  it  in  a 
lifetime.  I  have  seen  enough,  Stephen,  to  make  me 
"want  to  go  to  Italy.  It's  a  shameful  thing  to  keep  one's 
brain  and  taste  unemployed ! " 

"  Who  takes  you  to  see  the  pictures  ?  "  Stephen  de- 
manded. 

"  Miss  Maurel,  generally.  She  understands  these 
things  better  than  any  one  I  have  ever  talked  with." 

"  Pictures,  eh  ?  "  Stephen  grunted. 


THE  HILLMAN  229 

"  I  mentioned  pictures  as  an  example,"  John  con- 
tinued ;  "  but  the  love  of  them  includes  many  other 
things." 

"Theaters?" 

"  Of  course,"  John  assented.  "  It's  no  good  being 
narrow  about  theaters,  Stephen.  You  read  books  read- 
ily enough,  and  theaters  are  only  living  books,  after  all. 
There  is  no  real  difference." 

"  There  is  a  difference  in  plays,  though,  as  there  is  a 
difference  in  books,"  Stephen  reminded  him.  "  What 
about  the  play  Miss  Maurel  is  acting  in  now?  She's  a 
man's  mistress  in  it,  isn't  she,  and  glories  in  it  ?  " 

John,  who  had  been  walking  about  the  room,  came 
and  sat  down  opposite  to  his  brother.  He  leaned  a  lit- 
tle forward. 

"  Stephen,"  he  confessed,  "  I  loathed  that  play  the 
first  night  I  saw  it.  I  sha'n't  forget  how  miserable  I 
was.  Louise  was  so  wonderful  that  I  could  see  how  she 
swayed  all  that  audience  just  by  lifting  or  dropping  her 
voice ;  but  the  story  was  a  horror  to  me.  The  next  day 
—  well,  she  talked  to  me.  She  was  very  kind  and  very 
considerate.  She  explained  many  things.  I  try  my 
best,  now,  to  look  at  the  matter  from  her  point  of 
view." 

Stephen's  eyes  were  filled  for  a  moment  with  si- 
lent scorn.  Then  he  knocked  out  the  ashes  from  his 
pipe. 

"  You're  content,  then,  to  let  the  woman  you  want  to 
make  your  wife  show  herself  on  the  stage  and  play  the 
wanton  for  folks  to  grin  at  ?  "  he  asked. 

John  rose  once  more  to  his  feet. 

"Look  here,  Stephen,"  he  begged,  a  little  wistfully, 
"  it  isn't  any  use  talking  like  that,  is  it?  If  you  have 
come  here  with  evil  things  in  your  mind  about  the  woman 


230  THE  HILLMAN 

I  love,  we  had  better  shake  hands  and  part  quickly. 
She'll  be  my  wife  some  day,  or  I  shall  count  my  life  a 
failure,  and  I  don't  want  to  feel  that  words  have  passed 
between  us  — " 

"  I'll  say  no  more,  John,"  Stephen  interrupted.  "  I 
was  hoping,  when  I  came,  that  there  might  be  a  chance 
of  seeing  you  back  home  again  soon.  It's  going  to  be 
an  early  spring.  There  was  June  sunshine  yesterday. 
It  lay  about  the  hillsides  all  day  and  brought  the  tender 
greens  out  of  the  earth.  It  opened  the  crocuses,  waxy 
yellow  and  white,  all  up  the  garden  border.  The  hedge- 
rows down  in  the  valley  smelled  of  primrose  and  violets. 
Art  and  pictures !  I  never  had  such  schooling  as  you, 
John,  but  there  was  old  Dr.  Benson  at  Clowmarsh  —  I 
always  remember  what  he  said  one  day,  just  before  I 
left.  I'd  been  reading  Ruskin,  and  I  asked  him  what  art 
was  and  what  it  meant.  '  My  boy,'  he  answered,  *  art 
simply  represents  man's  passionate  desire  to  drag  the 
truth  out  of  life  in  half  a  dozen  different  ways.  God 
does  it  for  you  in  the  country ! '  They  called  him  an 
ignorant  man,  old  Benson,  for  a  schoolmaster,  but  when 
I'd  struggled  through  what  I  could  of  Ruskin,  I  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  he  and  I  were  something  of  the  same 
mind." 

"  It's  good  to  hear  you  talk  like  that,  Stephen,"  John 
said  earnestly.  "  You're  making  me  homesick,  but 
what's  the  sense  of  it?  For  good  or  for  evil,  I  am  here 
to  wrestle  with  things  for  a  bit." 

"  It's  no  easy  matter  for  me  to  open  out  the  things 
that  are  in  my  heart,"  Stephen  answered.  "  I  am  one 
of  the  old-fashioned  Strangeweys.  What  I  feel  is 
pretty  well  locked  up  inside.  The  last  time  you  and  I 
met  perhaps  I  spoke  too  much ;  so  here  I  am !  " 

you,"  John  declared.     "  I  remember 


THE  HILLMAN  231 

nothing  of  that  day.  We  will  look  at  things  squarely 
together,  even  where  we  differ.  I'm  — " 

He  broke  off  in  the  middle  of  his  sentence.  The  door 
had  been  suddenly  opened,  and  Sophy  Gerard  made  a 
somewhat  impetuous  entrance. 

"  I'm  absolutely  sick  of  ringing,  John,"  she  exclaimed. 
"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon !  I  hadn't  the  least  idea  you 
had  any  one  with  you." 

She  stood  still  in  surprise,  a  little  apologetic  smile 
upon  her  lips.  John  hastened  forward  and  welcomed 
her. 

"  It's  all  right,  Sophy,"  he  declared.  "  Let  me  in- 
troduce my  brother,  may  I?  My  brother  Stephen  — 
Miss  Sophy  Gerard." 

Stephen  rose  slowly  from  his  place,  laid  down  his 
pipe,  and  bowed  stiffly  to  Sophy.  She  held  out  her 
hand,  however,  and  smiled  up  at  him  delightfully. 

"  How  nice  of  you  to  come  and  see  your  poor,  lonely 
brother !  "  she  said.  "  We  have  done  our  best  to  spoil 
him,  but  I  am  afraid  he  is  very  homesick  sometimes. 
I  hope  you've  come  to  stay  a  long  time  and  to  learn  all 
about  London,  as  John  is  doing.  If  you  are  half  as 
nice  as  he  is,  we'll  give  you  such  a  good  time !  " 

From  his  great  height,  Stephen  looked  down  upon 
the  girl's  upturned  face  a  little  austerely.  She  chat- 
tered away,  entirely  unabashed. 

"  I  do  hope  you're  not  shocked  at  my  bursting  in 
upon  your  brother  like  this !  We  really  are  great  pals, 
and  I  live  only  just  across  the  way.  We  are  much  less 
formal  up  here,  you  know,  than  you  are  in  the  country. 
John,  I've  brought  you  a  message  from  Louise." 

"About  to-night?" 

She  nodded. 

"Louise  is  most  frightfully  sorry,"  she  explained, 


232  THE  HILLMAN 

"  but  she  has  to  go  down  to  Streatham  to  open  a  bazaar, 
and  she  can't  possibly  be  back  in  time  to  dine  before  the 
theater.  Can  you  guess  what  she  dared  to  suggest?  " 

"  I  think  I  can,"  John  replied,  smiling. 

"  Say  you  will,  there's  a  dear,"  she  begged.  "  I  am 
not  playing  to-night.  May  Enser  is  going  on  in  my 
place.  We  arranged  it  a  week  ago.  I  had  two  fines  to 
pay  on  Saturday,  and  I  haven't  had  a  decent  meal  this 
week.  But  I  had  forgotten,"  she  broke  off,  with  a  sud- 
den note  of  disappointment  in  her  tone.  "  There's  your 
brother.  I  mustn't  take  you  away  from  him." 

"  We'll  all  have  dinner  together,"  John  suggested. 
"  You'll  come,  of  course,  Stephen?  " 

Stephen  shook  his  head. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said,  "  I  am  due  at  my  hotel.  I'm 
going  back  to  Cumberland  to-morrow  morning,  and  my 
errand  is  already  done." 

"  You  will  do  nothing  of  the  sort !  "  John  declared. 

"  Please  be  amiable,"  Sophy  begged.  "  If  you  won't 
come  with  us,  I  shall  simply  run  away  and  leave  you  with 
John.  You  needn't  look  at  your  clothes,"  she  went  on. 
"  We  can  go  to  a  grill-room.  John  sha'n't  dress,  either. 
I  want  you  to  tell  me  all  about  Cumberland,  where  this 
brother  of  yours  lives.  He  doesn't  tell  us  half 
enough ! " 

John  passed  his  arm  through  his  brother's  and  led  him 
away. 

"  Come  and  have  a  wash,  old  chap,"  he  said. 

They  dined  together  at  Luigi's,  a  curiously  assorted 
trio  —  Sophy,  between  the  two  men,  supplying  a  dis- 
tinctly alien  note.  She  was  always  gay,  always  amus- 
ing, but  although  she  addressed  most  of  her  remarks  to 
Stephen,  he  never  once  unbent.  He  ate  and  drank 
simply,  seldom  speaking  of  himself  or  his  plans,  and 


THE  HILLMAN  233 

firmly  negativing  all  their  suggestions  for  the  remainder 
of  the  evening.  Occasionally  he  glanced  at  the  clock. 
John  became  conscious  of  a  certain  feeling  of  curiosity, 
which  in  a  sense  Sophy  shared. 

"  Your  brother  seems  to  me  like  a  man  with  a  pur- 
pose," she  said,  as  they  stood  in  the  entrance-hall  on 
their  way  out  of  the  restaurant.  "  Like  a  prophet  with 
a  mission,  perhaps  I  should  say." 

John  nodded.  In  the  little  passage  where  they  stood, 
he  and  Stephen  seemed  to  dwarf  the  passers-by.  The 
men,  in  their  evening  clothes  and  pallid  faces,  seemed 
suddenly  insignificant,  and  the  women  like  dolls. 

"  For  the  last  time,  Stephen,"  JoKn  said,  "  won't  you 
come  to  a  music-hall  with  us?"" 

"  I  have  made  my  plans  for  the  evening,  thank  you," 
Stephen  replied,  holding  out  his  hand.  "  Good  night !  " 

He  left  them  standing  there  and  walked  off  down  the 
Strand.  John,  looking  after  him,  frowned.  He  was 
conscious  of  a  certain  foreboding. 


XXVI 

"  I  suppose,"  Sophy  sighed,  as  they  waited  for  a  taxi- 
cab,  "  we  shall  spend  the  remainder  of  the  evening  in  the 
usual  fashion ! " 

"  Do  you  mind  ?  "  John  asked. 

"  No,"  she  assented  resignedly.  "  That  play  will  end 
by  making  a  driveling  idiot  of  me.  Only  think  for 
yourself!  At  first  we  had  to  rehearse  an  extra  month 
to  please  M.  Graillot.  I  never  had  more  than  a  dozen 
lines  to  say,  even  .before  my  part  was  practically  cut 
out,  but  I  had  to  be  there  every  time.  Now  it  has  been 
running  for  •  I  don't  know  how  many  nights,  I  have 
played  in  it  half  the  time,  and  if  your  highness  ever 
vouchsafes  me  a  few  hours  in  the  evening,  you  turn  to 
me  about  nine  o'clock  with  just  the  same  plaintive  ex- 
pression, and  murmur  something  about  going  on  to  the 
theater ! " 

"  We'll  do  something  else  to-night,"  John  proposed 
heroically.  "  I  really  had  no  idea  that  you  were  so 
fed  up  with  it." 

Sophy  shook  her  head.  They  were  in  the  taxicab 
now  and  on  their  way. 

"  Too  late ! "  she  sighed.  "  Besides,  my  sense  of 
economy  revolts  at  the  idea  of  your  empty  box.  If 
Louise  is  tired  to-night,  though,  I  warn  you  that  I  shall 
insist  upon  supper." 

"  It's  a  bargain,"  John  promised.  "  We'll  drive 
Louise  home,  and  then  I'll  take  you  back  to  Luigi's. 
We  haven't  been  out  together  for  some  time,  have  we?  " 


THE  HILLMAN  235 

She  looked  up  at  him  with  a  little  grimace  and  patted 
his  hand. 

"  You  have  neglected  me,"  she  said.  "  I  think  all 
these  fine  ladies  have  turned  your  head." 

She  drew  a  little  closer  to  him  and  passed  her  arm 
through  his.  John  made  no  responsive  movement.  He 
was  filled  with  resentment  at  the  sensation  of  pleasure 
that  her  affectionate  gesture  gave  him. 

"  I  might  as  well  try  to  flirt  with  a  statue ! "  she  de- 
clared, discontentedly.  "  What  makes  you  so  unlike 
other  people,  you  man  of  granite?  You  used  to  kiss  me 
very  clumsily  when  I  asked  you  to,  and  now  —  why, 
how  hot  your  hand  is !  " 

John  pushed  her  away  almost  roughly. 

"  Yes,  I  know  I  did,"  he  admitted,  "  and  now  I  don't 
want  to  any  more,  do  you  see?  It's  this  cursed  place 
and  this  cursed  life!  One's  feet  seem  always  on  the 
sands.  I  wouldn't  have  believed  it  when  I  first  came 
here.  Don't  tease  me,  Sophy,"  he  added,  turning 
toward  her  suddenly.  "  I  am  rather  inclined  to  despise 
myself  these  last  few  weeks.  Don't  make  me  worse  — 
don't  make  me  loathe  myself !  " 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders  a  little  pettishly  as  she 
leaned  back  in  the  cab. 

**  You  are  nothing  but  a  crank,"  she  declared ;  "  you 
and  your  brother,  too!  You've  lived  among  those 
flinty  rocks  till  you've  become  almost  like  them  your- 
selves." 

The  taxi  drew  up  at  the  theater.  John,  with  a  little 
sigh  of  relief,  was  already  out  upon  the  pavement. 
Sophy's  eyes  were  still  shining  at  him  through  her  veil, 
as  she  walked  lightly  and  gracefully  by  his  side,  but  he 
led  the  way  in  silence  down  the  stairs  to  the  box  that  he 
had  taken  for  the  season. 


S36  THE  HILLMAN 

"  And  now,"  she  exclaimed  with  a  pout,  as  she  leaned 
back  in  the  corner,  "  my  little  reign  is  over !  You  will 
sit  in  the  front  seat  and  you  will  look  at  Louise,  and 
feel  Louise,  and  your  eyes  will  shine  Louise,  until  the 
moment  for  your  escape  comes,  when  you  can  go  round 
to  the  back  and  meet  her ;  and  then  you  will  try  to  make 
excuses  to  get  rid  of  me,  so  that  you  can  drive  her  home 
alone!" 

"  Rubbish,  Sophy ! "  he  answered,  as  he  drew  a  chair 
to  her  side.  "  You  know  quite  well  that  I  can't  sit  in 
the  front  of  the  box,  for  the  very  prosaic  reason  that  I 
haven't  changed  my  clothes.  We  shall  both  have  to 
linger  here  in  the  shadows." 

"  Well,  there  is  some  comfort  in  that,  at  any  rate," 
Sophy  confessed.  "  If  I  become  absolutely  overcome 
by  my  emotions,  I  can  hold  your  hand." 

"  You  had  better  not,"  John  observed.  "  The  stage 
manager  has  his  eye  on  you.  If  his  own  artists  won't 
behave  in  the  theater,  what  can  he  expect  of  the  audi- 
ence? " 

Sophy  made  a  little  grimace.  "  If  they  stop  my  three 
pounds  a  week,"  she  murmured,  "  I  shall  either  have  to 
starve  or  become  your  valet !  " 

The  curtain  was  up  and  the  play  in  progress  —  a 
work  of  genius  rather  in  its  perfectly  balanced  develop- 
ment and  its  phraseology  than  in  any  originality  of 
motive.  Louise,  married  as  an  ingenue,  so  quickly 
transformed  into  the  brilliant  woman  of  society  poking 
mild  fun  at  the  unsympathetic  husband  to  whom  she  has 
been  sold  while  still  striving  to  do  her  duty  as  a  wife, 
easily  dominated  every  situation.  The  witty  speeches 
seemed  to  sparkle  upon  her  lips.  While  she  was  upon 
the  stage,  every  spoken  sentence  was  listened  to  with 
rapt  attention.  Graillot,  seated  as  usual  among  the 


THE  HILLMAN  237 

shadows  of  the  opposite  box,  moved  his  head  appreci- 
atively each  time  she  spoke,  as  if  punctuating  the  meas- 
ured insolence  of  her  brilliance. 

Exquisitely  gowned,  full  of  original  and  daring  ges- 
tures, she  moved  about  the  stage  as  if  her  feet  scarcely 
touched  the  boards.  She  was  full  of  fire  and  life  in  the 
earlier  stages  of  the  comedy.  She  heaped  mild  ridicule 
upon  her  husband  and  his  love-affairs,  exchanged  light 
sallies  with  her  guests,  or  parried  with  resourceful 
subtlety  the  constant  appeals  of  the  man  she  loved. 

The  spell  of  it  all,  against  which  he  had  so  often, 
fought,  came  over  John  anew.  He  set  his  chair  back 
against  the  wall  and  watched  and  listened,  a  veritable 
sense  of  hypnotism  creeping  over  his  senses.  Presently 
the  same  impulse  which  had  come  to  him  so  many  times 
before  induced  him  to  turn  his  head,  to  read  in  the  faces 
.of  the  audience  the  reflection  of  her  genius.  He  had 
often  watched  those  long  lines  of  faces  changing,  each 
in  its  own  way,  under  the  magic  of  her  art.  To-night 
he  looked  beyond.  He  knew  very  well  that  his  search 
had  a  special  object.  Suddenly  he  gripped  the  arms  of 
his  chair.  In  the  front  row  of  the  pit,  sitting  head  and 
shoulders  taller  than  the  men  and  women  who  lounged 
over  the  wooden  rest  in  front  of  them,  was  Stephen. 
More  than  ever,  among  these  unappropriate  surround- 
ings, he  seemed  to  represent  something  almost  patri- 
archal, a  forbidding  and  disapproving  spirit  sitting  in 
judgment  upon  some  modern  and  unworthy  wantonness. 
His  face,  stern  and  grave,  showed  little  sign  of  approval 
or  disapproval,  but  to  John's  apprehending  eyes  the 
critical  sense  was  there,  the  verdict  foredoomed.  He 
understood  as  in  a  flash  that  Stephen  had  come  there  to 
judge  once  more  the  woman  whom  his  brother  desired. 

At  last  the  second  act  ended,  and  John  pushed  back 


238  THE  HILLMAN 

his  chair.  Sophy,  whose  apprehensions  were  remark- 
ably acute,  especially  where  John  was  concerned,  lifted 
the  edge  of  the  curtain  and  understood.  She  exchanged 
a  quick  glance  with  her  companion. 

"  He  won't  like  it  1 "  she  whispered. 

"  If  only  we  could  get  him  away  before  the  next  act !  " 
John  muttered. 

They  both  glanced  once  more  into  the  auditorium  be- 
low. Many  of  the  spectators  had  left  their  places  to 
stroll  about.  Not  so  Stephen.  Unflinchingly  he  sat 
there,  with  an  air  of  dogged  patience.  He  had  bought 
a  program  and  was  reading  the  names,  one  by  one. 

"Is  there  nothing  we  can  do?"  Sophy  asked. 
"  Couldn't  we  send  a  message  —  persuade  him  that  the 
last  act  isn't  worth  staying  for?  " 

John  shook  his  head. 

"  Stephen  has  come  here  with  a  purpose,"  he  said 
gloomily.  "  I  might  have  guessed  it.  He  will  see  it 
through.  He  will  sit  there  till  the  end." 

The  curtain  went  up  again  and  the  play  moved  on, 
with  subtle  yet  inevitable  dramatic  power,  toward  the 
hated  and  dreaded  crisis.  Louise's  moment  of  combined 
weakness  and  strength  was  so  wonderfully  natural,  so 
very  human,  that  its  approach  sent  a  thrill  of  anticipa- 
tion through  the  audience.  The  intense  lifelikeness  of 
the  play  predominated  over  every  other  feeling.  It  was 
as  if  real  things  were  happening,  as  if  they  were  watch- 
ing and  listening  to  a  woman  at  the  moment  of  her 
choice.  And  then  at  last  the  tense  moment,  the  sud- 
den cessation  of  her  husband's  foolish  laughter  and  fu- 
tile taunts,  the  supreme  denouement  with  its  interval 
of  breathless  silence. 

John,  who  was  slowly  tearing  his  program  to  pieces, 
turned  his  head  toward  the  spot  where  his  brother  was 


THE  HILLMAN  239 

sitting  in  the  dimmer  light.  Stephen's  countenance 
seemed  to  have  changed  into  the  color  as  well  as  the 
likeness  of  those  granite  rocks.  The  line  of  faces  on 
either  side  of  him  appeared  now  curiously  featureless. 
His  eyes  were  still  riveted  upon  that  closed  door,  his 
eyebrows  had  come  together  in  a  stupendous  frown. 

Sophy  had  parted  the  curtain  and  was  peeping 
through. 

"  Nothing  in  the  world  could  make  him  understand !  " 
she  murmured.  "  Do  you  think  it  would  be  of  any  use 
if  we  met  him  outside?  " 

John  shook  his  head. 

"  You  can't  convince  people,"  he  replied,  "  when  you 
are  unconvinced  yourself." 

The  play  came  to  an  end  presently,  amid  a  storm  of 
applause.  The  grim  figure  in  the  front  of  the  pit  re- 
mained motionless  and  silent.  He  was  one  of  the  last 
to  leave,  and  John  watched  his  retreating  figure  with  a 
sigh.  Sophy  drew  him  away. 

"  We  had  better  hurry  round,"  she  said.  "  Louise  is 
always  very  quick  getting  ready." 

They  found  her,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  in  the  act  of 
leaving.  She  welcomed  them  naturally  enough,  but 
John  fancied  that  her  greeting  showed  some  signs  of  em- 
barrassment. 

"  You  knew  that  I  was  going  out  to  supper  to- 
night ?  "  she  asked.  "  Or  didn't  I  tell  you  ?  The  prince 
has  asked  the  French  people  from  His  Majesty's  to 
meet  M.  Graillot  at  supper.  I  am  hurrying  home  to 
dress." 

John  handed  her  into  her  waiting  automobile  in  si- 
lence. She  glanced  into  his  face. 

"  Is  anything  the  matter  ?  "  she  asked. 

"Nothing!" 


•24o  THE  HILLMAN 

"  The  prince  would  have  asked  you,  without  a  doubt," 
Louise  continued,  "  but  he  knows  that  you  are  not  really 
interested  in  the  stage,  and  this  party  is  entirely  French 
—  they  do  not  speak  a  word  of  English.  Au  revoir! 
Sophy,  take  care  of  him,  and  mind  you  behave  your- 
selves ! " 

She  waved  her  hand  to  them  both  and  threw  herself 
back  among  the  cushions  as  the  car  glided  off.  John 
walked  to  the  corner  of  the  street  in  gloomy  silence. 
Then  he  remembered  his  companion.  He  stopped 
short. 

"  Sophy,"  he  begged,  "  don't  hold  me  to  my  promise. 
I  don't  want  to  take  you  out  to  supper  to-night.  I  am 
not  in  the  humor  for  it." 

"  Don't  be  foolish ! "  she  replied.  "  If  you  stay 
alone,  you  will  only  imagine  things  and  be  miserable. 
We  needn't  have  any  supper,  unless  you  like.  Let  me 
come  and  sit  in  your  rooms  with  you." 

"  No !  "  he  decided,  almost  roughly.  "  I  am  losing 
myself,  Sophy.  I  am  losing  something  of  my  strength 
every  day.  Louise  doesn't  help  as  she  might.  Don't 
stay  with  me,  please.  I  am  beginning  to  have  moods, 
and  when  they  come  on  I  want  to  be  alone." 

She  drew  a  little  closer  to  him. 

"  Let  me  come,  please !  "  she  begged,  with  a  pathetic, 
almost  childlike  quiver  at  the  corner  of  her  lips. 

He  looked  down  at  her.  A  sudden  wave  of  tenderness 
swept  every  other  thought  from  his  mind.  His  mental 
balance  seemed  suddenly  restored.  He  hailed  a  pass- 
ing taxi  and  handed  Sophy  into  it. 

"  What  a  selfish  pig  I  am !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Any- 
how, it's  all  over  now.  We'll  go  back  to  Luigi's  to  sup- 
per, by  all  means.  I  am  going  to  make  you  tell  me  all 
about  that  young  man  from  Bath ! " 


XXVII 

Louise  glanced  at  her  watch,  sat  up  in  bed,  and  turned 
reproachfully  toward  Aline. 

"  Aline,  do  you  know  it  is  only  eleven  o'clock  ?  "  she 
exclaimed. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  madame,"  the  latter  hastened  to 
explain,  "  but  there  is  a  gentleman  down-stairs  who 
wishes  to  see  you.  He  says  he  will  wait  until  you  can, 
receive  him.  I  thought  you  would  like  to  know." 

"  A  gentleman  at  this  hour  of  the  morning?  "  Louise 
yawned.  "  How  absurd !  Anyhow,  you  ought  to  know 
better  than  to  wake  me  up  before  the  proper  time." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  madame,"  Aline  replied.  "  I 
hesitated  for  some  time,  but  I  thought  you  would  like 
to  know  that  the  gentleman  was  here.  It  is  Mr.  Ste- 
phen Strangewey  —  Mr.  John's  brother." 

Louise  clasped  her  knees  with  her  fingers  and  sab 
thinking.  She  was  wide  awake  now. 

"  He  has  been  here  some  time  already,  madame" 
Aline  continued.  "  I  did  not  wish  to  disturb  you,  but 
I  thought  perhaps  it  was  better  for  you  to  know  that  he 
was  here." 

"  Quite  right,  Aline,"  Louise  decided.  "  Go  down  and 
tell  him  that  I  will  see  him  in  half  an  hour,  and  get  my 
bath  ready  at  once." 

Louise  dressed  herself  simply  but  carefullly.  She 
could  conceive  of  but  one  reason  for  Stephen's  presence 
in  her  house,  and  it  rather  amused  her.  It  was,  of 
course,  no  friendly  visit.  He  had  come  either  to 


242  THE  HILLMAN 

threaten  or  to  cajole.  Yet  what  could  he  do?  What 
had  she  to  fear?  She  went  over  the  interview  in  her 
mind,  imagining  him  crushed  and  subdued  by  her  su- 
perior subtlety  and  finesse. 

With  a  little  smile  of  coming  triumph  upon  her  lips 
she  descended  the  stairs  and  swept  into  her  pleasantly 
warmed  and  perfumed  little  drawing-room.  She  even 
held  out  her  hand  cordially  to  the  dark,  grim  figure 
whose  outline  against  the  dainty  white  wall  seemed  so 
inappropriate. 

"  This  is  very  nice  of  you  indeed,  Mr.  Strangewey," 
she  began.  "  I  had  no  idea  that  you  had  followed  your 
brother's  example  and  come  to  town." 

She  told  herself  once  more  that  her  slight  instinct 
of  uneasiness  had  been  absurd.  Stephen's  bow,  al- 
though a  little  formal  and  austere,  was  still  an  acknowl- 
edgment of  her  welcome.  The  shadows  of  the  room, 
perhaps,  had  prevented  him  from  seeing  her  out- 
stretched hand. 

"  Mine  is  a  very  short  visit,  Miss  Maurel,"  he  said. 
*'  I  had  no  other  reason  for  coming  but  to  see  John  and 
to  pay  this  call  upon  you." 

"  I  am  greatly  flattered,"  she  told  him.  "  You  must 
please  sit  down  and  make  yourself  comfortable  while 
we  talk.  See,  this  is  my  favorite  place,"  she  added, 
dropping  into  a  corner  of  her  lounge.  "  Will  you  sit 
beside  me?  Or,  if  you  prefer,  draw  up  that  chair." 

"  My  preference,"  he  replied,  "  is  to  remain  stand- 
ing."  * 

She  raised  her  eyebrows.     Her  tone  altered. 

"  It  must  be  as  you  wish,  of  course,"  she  continued ; 
"  only  I  have  such  pleasant  recollections  of  your  hos- 
pitality at  Peak  Hall  that  I  should  like,  if  there  was 
any  possible  way  in  which  I  could  return  it  — " 


THE  HILLMAN  243 

"  Madam,"  he  interrupted,  "  you  must  admit  that  the 
hospitality  of  Peak  Hall  was  not  willingly  offered  to 
you.  Save  for  the  force  of  circumstances,  you  would 
never  have  crossed  our  threshold." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders.  She  was  adapting  her 
tone  and  manner  to  the  belligerency  of  his  attitude. 

"  Well?  " 

"  You  want  to  know  why  I  have  found  my  way  to 
London  ?  "  he  went  on.  "  I  came  to  find  out  a  little 
more  about  you." 

"About  me?" 

"  To  discover  if  there  was  anything  about  you,"  he 
proceeded  deliberately,  "  concerning  which  report  had 
lied.  I  do  not  place  my  faith  in  newspapers  and 
gossip.  There  was  always  a  chance  that  you  might 
have  been  an  honest  woman.  That  is  why  I  came 
to  London,  and  why  I  went  to  see  your  play  last 
night." 

She  was  speechless.  It  was  as  if  he  were  speaking  to 
her  in  some  foreign  tongue. 

"  I  have  struggled,"  he  continued,  "  to  adopt  a  chari- 
table view  of  your  profession.  I  know  that  the  world 
changes  quickly,  while  we,  who  prefer  to  remain  out- 
side its  orbit,  of  necessity  lose  touch  with  its  new  ideas 
and  new  fashions.  So  I  said  to  myself  that  there 
should  be  no  mistake.  For  that  reason  I  sat  in  a  thea- 
ter last  night  almost  for  the  first  time  in  my  life.  I 
saw  you  act." 

"Well?"  she  asked  almost  defiantly. 

He  looked  down  at  her.  All  splendid  self-assurance 
seemed  ebbing  away.  She  felt  a  sudden  depression  of 
spirit,  a  sudden  strange  sense  of  insignificance. 

"  I  have  come,"  he  said,  "  if  I  can,  to  buy  my  broth- 
er's freedom." 


244  THE  HILLMAN 

"  To  buy  your  brother's  freedom  ?  "  she  repeated,  in 
a  dazed  tone. 

"  My  brother  is  infatuated  with  you,"  Stephen  de- 
clared. "  I  wish  to  save  him." 

Her  woman's  courage  began  to  assert  itself.  She 
raised  her  eyes  to  his. 

"  Exactly  what  do  you  mean? "  she  asked  calmly. 
*'  In  what  way  is  any  man  to  be  saved  from  me  ?  If 
your  brother  should  care  for  me,  and  I,  by  any  chance, 
should  happen  to  care  for  him,  in  what  respect  would 
that  be  a  state  from  which  he  would  require  salva- 
tion? " 

"  You  make  my  task  more  difficult,"  he  observed  de- 
liberately. "  Does  it  amuse  you  to  practise  your  pro- 
fession before  one  so  ignorant  and  so  unappreciative  as 
myself?  If  my  brother  should  ever  marry,  it  is  my 
firm  intention  that  he  shall  marry  an  honest  woman." 

Louise  sat  quite  still  for  a  moment.  A  flash  of  light- 
ning had  glittered  before  her  eyes,  and  in  her  ears 
was  the  crash  of  thunder.  Her  face  was  suddenly 
strained.  She  saw  nothing  but  the  stern,  forbidding 
expression  of  the  man  who  looked  down  at  her. 

"  You  dare  to  say  this  to  me,  here  in  my  own 
house?  " 

"  Dare  ?  Why  not  ?  Don't  people  tell  you  the 
truth  here  in  London,  then?  " 

She  rose  a  little  unsteadily  to  her  feet,  motioning  him 
toward  the  door,  and  moving  toward  the  bell.  Sud- 
denly she  sank  back  into  her  former  place,  breathless 
and  helpless. 

"Why  do  you  waste  your  breath?"  he  asked 
calmly.  "  We  are  alone  here,  and  I  —  we  know  the 
truth !  " 

She  sat  quite  still,  shivering  a  little. 


THE  HILLMAN  245 

"  Do  we  ?  Tell  me,  then,  because  I  am  curious  — < 
tell  me  why  you  are  so  sure  of  what  you  say  ?  " 

"  The  world  has  it,"  he  replied,  "  that  you  are  the 
mistress  of  the  Prince  of  Seyre.  I  came  to  London  to 
satisfy  myself  as  to  the  truth  of  that  report.  Do  you 
believe  that  any  man  living,  among  that  audience  last 
night,  could  watch  the  play  and  know  that  you  passed, 
night  after  night,  into  your  bed-chamber  to  meet  your 
lover  with  that  look  upon  your  face  —  you  are  a  clever 
actress,  madam  —  and  believe  that  you  were  a  woman, 
who  was  living  an  honest  life  ?  " 

"  That  seems  impossible  to  you?  "  she  demanded. 

"  Utterly  impossible ! " 

"And  to  John?" 

"  I  am  speaking  for  myself  and  not  for  my  brother," 
Stephen  replied.  "  Men  like  him,  who  are  assailed  by 
a  certain  madness,  are  best  left  alone  with  it.  That  is 
why  I  came  to  you  to  bargain,  if  I  could.  Is  there 
anything  that  you  lack  —  anything  which  your  own 
success  and  your  lover,  or  lovers,  have  failed  to  provide 
for  you?  " 

It  was  useless  to  try  to  rise ;  she  was  powerless  in  all 
her  limbs.  Side  by  side  with  the  anger  and  horror  that 
his  words  aroused  was  a  sense  of  something  almost  gro- 
tesque, something  which  seemed  to  force  an  unnatural 
laugh  from  her  lips. 

"  So  you  want  to  buy  me  off?  " 

"  I  should  be  glad  to  believe  that  it  was  within  my 
power  to  do  so.  I  have  not  John's  great  fortune,  but  I 
have  money,  the  accumulated  savings  of  a  lifetime,  for 
which  I  have  no  better  purpose.  There  is  one  more 
thing,  too,  to  be  said." 

"  Another  charge?  " 

"  Not  that,"  he  told  her ;  "  only  it  is  better  for  you 


246  THE  HILLMAN 

to  understand  that  if  you  turn  me  from  your  house 
this  morning,  I  shall  still  feel  the  necessity  of  saving 
my  brother  from  you." 

"  Saving  him  from  me  ?  "  she  exclaimed,  rising  sud- 
denly and  throwing  out  her  arms.  "  Do  you  know  what 
you  are  talking  about?  Do  you  know  that  if  I  con- 
sented to  think  of  your  brother  as  my  husband,  there 
is  not  a  man  in  London  who  would  not  envy  him  ?  Look 
at  me !  I  am  beautiful,  am  I  not  ?  I  am  a  great  artist. 
I  am  Louise  Maurel,  and  I  have  made  myself  famous  by 
my  own  work  and  my  own  genius.  What  has  your 
brother  done  in  life  to  render  him  worthy  of  the  sacrifice 
I  should  make  if  I  chose  to  give  him  my  hand?  You 
had  better  go  back  to  Cumberland,  Mr.  Strangewey. 
You  do  not  see  life  as  we  see  it  up  here  1 " 

"  And  what  about  John?  "  he  asked,  without  moving. 
**  You  tempted  him  away.  Was  it  from  wantonness,  or 
do  you  love  him  ?  " 

"Love  him?"  she  laughed.  "I  hate  you  both! 
You  are  boors  —  you  are  ignorant  people.  I  hate  the 
moment  I  ever  saw  either  of  you.  Take  John  back 
with  you.  Take  him  out  of  my  life.  There  is  no 
place  there  for  him !  " 

Stephen  picked  up  his  hat  from  the  sofa  where  it  lay. 
Louise  remained  perfectly  still,  her  breath  coming 
quickly,  her  eyes  lit  with  passion. 

"  Madam,"  he  said,  "  I  am  sorry  to  have  distressed 
you,  but  the  truth  sometimes  hurts  the  most  callous  of 
us.  You  have  heard  the  truth  from  me.  I  will  take 
John  back  to  Cumberland  with  me,  if  he  will  come.  If 
he  will  not  — " 

"  Take  him  with  you !  "  she  broke  in  fiercely.  "  He 
•wfll  do  as  I  bid  him  —  do  you  hear?  If  I  lift  my  little 
finger,  he  will  stay.  It  will  be  I  who  decide,  I  — " 


THE  HILLMAN  247 

"  But  you  will  not  lift  your  little  finger,"  he  inter- 
rupted grimly. 

"Why  shouldn't  I,  just  to  punish  you?"  she  de- 
manded. "  There  are  scores  of  men  who  fancy  them- 
selves in  love  with  me.  x  If  I  choose,  I  can  keep  them  all 
their  lives  hanging  to  the  hem  of  my  skirt,  praying  for 
a  word,  a  touch.  I  can  make  them  furious  one  day  and 
penitent  the  next  —  wretched  always,  perhaps,  but  I 
can  keep  them  there.  Why  should  I  not  treat  your 
brother  in  the  same  way  ?  " 

He  seemed  suddenly  to  dilate.  She  was  overcome 
with  a  sense  of  some  latent  power  in  the  man,  some  com- 
manding influence. 

"  Because,"  he  declared,  "  I  am  the  guardian  of  my 
brother's  happiness.  Whoever  trifles  with  it  shall  in 
the  future  reckon  with  me ! " 

His  eyes  were  fixed  upon  her  soft,  white  throat.  His 
long,  lean  fingers  seemed  suddenly  to  be  drawing  near 
to  her.  She  watched  him,  fascinated.  She  was  trying 
to  scream.  Even  after  he  had  turned  away  and  left 
her,  after  she  had  heard  his  measured  tramp  descend- 
ing the  stairs,  her  fingers  flew  to  her  throat.  She  held 
herself  tightly,  standing  there  with  beating  heart  and 
throbbing  pulses.  It  was  not  until  the  front  door  had 
closed  that  she  had  the  strength  to  move,  to  throw  her- 
self face  downward  upon  the  couch. 


XXVIII 

Louise  ate  a  very  small  luncheon,  but  —  an  unusual 
thing  for  her  —  she  drank  two  glasses  of  wine.  Just 
as  she  had  finished,  Sophy  came  in,  with  ink-stained  fin- 
gers and  a  serious  expression. 

"  You  silly  child !  "  Louise  exclaimed.  "  No  one  told 
me  you  were  here.  Have  you  had  any  lunch  ?  " 

"  Long  ago,"  Sophy  replied.  "  I  have  been  finishing 
your  accounts." 

Louise  made  a  little  grimace. 

"  Tell  me  the  worst,"  she  begged. 

"  You  are  overdrawn  at  your  bank,  your  bills  are 
heavier  than  ever  this  month,  and  there  are  five  or  six 
special  accounts  —  one  for  some  electric  fittings,  an- 
other for  the  hire  of  a  motor-car  —  which  ought  to  be 
paid." 

"  People  are  always  wanting  money ! "  Louise  de- 
clared pettishly. 

"  People  always  will  want  money,"  Sophy  retorted, 
"  so  long  as  you  earn  three  thousand  a  year  and  spend 
four  or  five  thousand !  " 

Louise  selected  a  cigarette  and  lit  it. 

"  Instead  of  scolding  me,  child,"  she  yawned,  "  sup- 
pose you  suggest  something?  " 

"  What  is  there  to  suggest?  "  Sophy  replied.  "  Your 
bank  has  written  you  to  put  your  overdraft  straight  at 
once  —  it  comes  to  about  two  hundred  and  seventy 


THE  HILLMAN  249 

pounds.  There  are  bills,  for  which  the  people  are  ask- 
ing for  payment,  and  which  come  to  about  as  much 
again.  You've  nothing  but  your  hundred  pounds  a 
week,  and  you're  spending  half  of  that,  as  it  is." 

Louise  flicked  the  ash  from  her  cigarette. 

"  And  even  you,  my  child,  don't  know  the  worst,"  she 
remarked.  "  There's  Fenillon,  my  dressmaker.  She 
doesn't  send  me  a  bill  at  all,  but  I  owe  her  nearly  six 
hundred  pounds.  I  have  to  wear  a  shockingly  unbe- 
coming gown  in  the  second  act,  as  it  is,  just  because 
she's  getting  disagreeable." 

"  Well,  I've  tried  to  set  things  straight,"  Sophy  de- 
clared. "  You'll  have  either  to  marry  or  to  borrow 
some  money.  You  can't  go  on  much  longer !  " 

Louise  was  looking  up  at  the  ceiling.     She  sighed. 

"  It  would  be  nice,"  she  said,  "  to  have  some  one  to 
pay  one's  bills  and  look  after  one,  and  see  that  one 
wasn't  too  extravagant." 

"  Well,  you  need  some  one  badly,"  Sophy  asserted. 
"  I  suppose  you  mean  to  make  up  your  mind  to  it  some 
day." 

"  I  wonder !  "  Louise  murmured.  "  Did  you  know 
that  that  terrible  man  from  the  hills  —  John  Strange- 
wey's  brother  —  has  been  here  this  morning?  He 
frightened  me  almost  to  death." 

"  What  did  he  want?  "  Sophy  asked  curiously. 

"  He  was  a  trifle  vague,"  Louise  remarked.  "  I 
gathered  that  if  I  don't  send  John  back  to  Cumber- 
land, he's  going  to  strangle  me." 

Sophy  leaned  across  the  table. 

"  Are  you  going  to  send  him  back  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  am  in  an  uncertain  frame  of  mind,"  Louise  con* 
fessed.  "  I  really  can't  decide  about  anything." 

Sophy  poured  herself  out  some  coffee. 


250  THE  HILLMAN 

"  I  think,"  she  said,  "  that  you'll  have  to  decide  about 
John  before  long." 

"  About  John,  indeed  1 "  Louise  exclaimed  lightly. 
"  Who  gave  you  the  right  to  call  him  by  his  Christian 
name?" 

Sophy  colored. 

"I  suppose  I  have  just  dropped  into  it,"  she  re- 
marked. "  Tell  me  what  you  have  decided  to  do,  Lou- 
ise? " 

"  Why  should  I  do  anything  at  all?  " 

"  You  know  very  well,"  Sophy  insisted,  "  that  you 
have  encouraged  John  Strangewey  shamefully.  You 
have  persuaded  him  to  live  up  here,  to  make  new  friends, 
and  to  start  an  entirely  new  mode  of  life,  just  in  the 
hope  that  some  day  you  will  marry  him." 

"  Have  I?  "  Louise  asked.  "  Then  I  suppose  I  must 
keep  my  word  —  some  day !  " 

Sophy  drew  her  chair  a  little  nearer  to  her  friend's. 
She  passed  her  arm  around  Louise's  waist ;  their  heads 
almost  touched. 

"  Dear  Louise,"  she  whispered,  "  please  tell  me !  " 

Louise  was  silent.  Her  hesitation  became  momen- 
tous. Her  eyes  seemed  to  be  looking  through  the  walls. 
Sophy  watched  her  breathlessly. 

"  You  ought  to  make  up  your  mind,"  she  went  on. 
"  You  see,  it  isn't  as  if  there  was  no  one  else.  There  is 
the  prince." 

Sophy  felt  the  fingers  that  she  was  clasping  grow  a 
little  colder. 

"  Yes,"  Louise  repeated,  "  there  is  the  prince.  So- 
phy, I  feel  that  I  am  drifting  into  an  impossible  posi- 
tion. Every  day  is  bringing  me  nearer  to  it." 

"  I  want  to  tell  you  this,  Louise,"  Sophy  said  firmly. 
"  John  is  getting  to  know  a  great  many  people,  and  you 


THE  HILLMAN  251 

know  how  men  talk  at  the  clubs.  Aren't  you  some- 
times afraid  that  he  will  hear  things  and  misunder- 
stand?" 

"  I  am  expecting  it  every  day,"  Louise  admitted. 

"  Then  why  don't  you  end  it?  " 

"Which  way?" 

i     There  was  a  silence  between  the  two  women.     The 

I  muffled  street  noises   from   outside  became  the  back- 

j ground  to  a  stillness  which  grew  every  moment  more 

'oppressive.     Louise  returned  to  her  former  attitude. 

She  looked  steadfastly  before  her,  her  face  supported 

by  her  hands. 

Sophy  grew  paler  and  paler  as  the  minutes  passed. 
There  was  something  strange  and  almost  beautiful  in 
Louise's  face,  something  which  had  come  to  her  lately, 
and  which  shone  from  her  eyes  only  at  rare  intervals. 

"  You  care  for  him,  I  believe ! "  Sophy  cried  at  last. 
'*  You  care  for  him ! " 

Louise  did  not  move. 

*'  Why  not?  "  she  whispered. 

"  You,  Louise ! "  Sophy  gasped.  "  You,  the  great 
artist !  Why,  think  of  the  men  who  have  tried  to  make 
you  care  —  poets,  musicians  —  so  many  of  them,  so 
many  famous  men!  It  can't  be  true.  John  Strange- 
wey  is  so  far  apart.  He  doesn't  belong  to  your 
world." 

\  Louise  leaned  over  and  stroked  her  little  friend's 
hair. 

"  Child,"  she  said,  "  that's  all  very  true.  I  have  had 
it  ringing  in  my  brain  for  longer  than  you  would  be- 
lieve. But  now  tell  me  something.  No,  look  at  me  — 
don't  be  ashamed.  Are  you  in  love  with  John  your- 
self?" 

Sophy  never  hesitated. 


252  THE  HILLMAN 

"  From  the  very  first  moment  I  saw  him,"  she  con- 
fessed. "  Don't  let  that  bother  you,  dear.  He  would 
never  look  at  me  except  as  a  little  pal.  I  never  ex- 
pected anything  from  him  —  anything  serious,  of 
course  —  never  dared  to  hope  for  it.  I  have  thrown 
myself  at  his  head  in  the  most  shameless  manner.  It  is 
all  no  good.  I  never  met  any  one  like  him  before. 
Louise,  do  you  know  that  he  is  good  —  really  good  ?  " 

*'  I  believe  he  is,"  Louise  murmured.  "  That  is  what 
makes  it  so  wonderful." 

"  It's  all  incomprehensible,"  Sophy  declared  wearily. 

There  was  a  ring  at  the  front  door.  Louise,  from 
her  place,  could  see  the  long,  gray  bonnet  of  John's 
car.  Almost  before  she  could  speak,  he  was  announced. 

"  It's  an  atrocious  time  to  come,  I  know  — "  he  began 
apologetically. 

"You're  in  time  for  some  coffee,  anyhow,"  Sophy 
told  him  cheerfully.  "  And  I  know  Louise  is  glad  to 
see  you,  because  if  you  hadn't  come  I  was  going  to  make 
her  go  through  some  accounts." 

"  You  know  I  am  always  glad  to  see  you,"  Louise 
murmured,  pointing  to  a  chair.  "  Sophy  and  I  have 
been  having  a  most  interesting  discussion,  but  we  have 
come  to  a  cul-de-sac." 

"  I  really  came,"  John  explained,  "  to  ask  if  you 
cared  to  come  and  see  a  collection  of  pictures.  There's 
an  Italian  —  a  Futurist,  of  course  —  just  unpacked  his 
little  lot  and  set  them  up  over  a  curiosity-shop  in  Clif- 
ford Street.  He  is  sending  out  cards  for  next  week, 
but  I  could  take  you  to-day  —  that  is,  if  you  would 
care  about  it.  We  can  go  somewhere  for  some  tea  aft- 
erward." 

Louise  made  a  little  grimace. 

**  What  bad  luck !  "  she  exclaimed. 


THE  HILLMAN  253 

She  stopped  short.  She  felt  that  by  her  hesitation 
she  had,  in  a  sense,  committed  herself. 

"  I  have  promised  to  go  and  have  tea  with  the  prince 
at  Seyre  House,"  she  said.  "  It  is  an  engagement  we 
made  last  week." 

John  set  down  his  empty  coffee-cup  with  a  clatter. 
An  inexplicable  but  dominating  fury  seemed  to  have 
suddenly  assailed  him.  He  took  out  a  cigarette  and 
tried  to  light  it.  Sophy,  after  watching  him  for  a  mo- 
ment in  astonishment,  slipped  out  of  the  room.  Lou- 
ise came  over  to  his  side. 

"  Are  you  really  so  much  disappointed  ?  "  she  asked. 
"  I  am  so  sorry.  If  I  had  known  that  you  were  coming 
for  me,  I  would  have  kept  myself  free." 

"  It  isn't  that  exactly,"  John  answered.  *'  It's  some- 
thing I  can't  altogether  explain.  If  you  don't  mind,  I 
think  I  will  be  going.  There  is  something  I  must  put 
right." 

He  left  without  another  word.  She  watched  him 
step  into  his  new  motor-car  and  drive  away  a  little  reck- 
lessly, considering  the  crowded  state  of  the  streets.  He 
drew  up,  a  few  minutes  later,  outside  the  club  in  Pall 
Mall,  where,  as  it  chanced,  he  had  lunched  that  day  with 
the  Prince  of  Seyre. 

He  found  the  prince  still  sitting  in  the  smoking  room, 
reading  a  review,  over  the  top  of  which  he  glanced  up  as 
John  approached,  and  nodded  nonchalantly. 

"  Back  again  ?  "  he  murmured. 

'*  I  came  back  to  have  a  word  with  you,  prince." 

The  prince  laid  down  the  review,  keeping  his  finger  in 
the  place. 

"  Delighted ! " 

"  Not  long  ago,"  John  went  on,  "  in  this  room,  some 
one  —  I  think  it  was  Major  Charters  —  asked  you  what 


254  THE  HILLMAN 

you  were  doing  this  afternoon.  You  replied  that  you 
were  engaged.  There  were  several  others  present,  and 
they  began  to  chaff  you.  Perhaps  I  joined  in  —  I 
don't  remember.  I  think  that  it  was  Major  Charters 
who  asked  you,  to  use  his  own  words,  whether  your  ap- 
pointment was  with  a  lady.  You  replied  in  the  affirma- 
tive. There  was  a  little  volley  of  chaff.  You  listened 
•without  contradiction  to  many  references  concerning 
the  nature  of  your  afternoon's  amusement." 

The  prince  nodded  slightly.  His  face  remained  quite 
expressionless. 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact,"  John  concluded,  "  I  have  dis- 
covered by  the  purest  accident  that  Miss  Maurel  is  to 
be  your  guest  this  afternoon  at  Seyre  House." 

The  prince  inclined  his  head  gently.  He  remained 
monosyllabic. 

"Well?" 

John  frowned  heavily. 

"  Can't  you  see,"  he  went  on  bluntly,  "  that  if  any 
one  of  those  men  who  were  present,  and  heard  what  was 
said  about  your  guest,  found  out  afterward  that  it  was 
Miss  Maurel  who  came  to  see  you  —  well,  I  need  not  go 
on,  need  I?  I  am  sure  you  understand.  The  things 
which  were  hinted  at  could  not  possibly  apply  to  her. 
!Would  you  mind  sending  a  note  to  Miss  Maurel  and 
asking  her  to  have  tea  with  you  some  other  afternoon  ?  " 

"  And  why  the  deuce  should  I  do  that?  "  the  prince 
asked,  a  trifle  paler,  but  entirely  self-possessed. 

"  To  oblige  me,"  John  replied. 

The  prince  wiped  his  eye-glass  carefully  upon  his 
handkerchief. 

"  Mr.  Strangewey,  you  are  a  very  amiable  young 
man,"  he  said  equably,  "  to  whom  I  have  tried  to  show 
some  kindness  for  Miss  Maurel's  sake.  I  really  do  not 


THE  HILLMAN  255 

see,  however  —  pardon  my  putting  it  plainly  —  what 
business  this  is  of  yours." 

"  It  is  my  business,"  John  declared,  "  because  I  have 
asked  Miss  Maurel  to  be  my  wife,  and  because  I  am  hop- 
ing that  some  day,  before  very  long,  she  will  consent." 

The  prince  sat  quite  still  in  his  chair,  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  a  certain  spot  in  the  carpet.  He  had  not  even  the 
appearance  of  being  engaged  in  thought.  He  seemed 
only  steeped  in  a  sort  of  passivity.  Finally,  with  a 
sigh,  he  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  My  young  friend,"  he  decided,  "  your  statement  al- 
ters the  situation.  I  did  not  credit  you  with  matrimo- 
nial intentions.  I  must  see  what  can  be  done !  " 

His  lips  had  relaxed  ever  so  slightly  —  so  slightly 
that  they  showed  only  a  glimpse  of  his  teeth  in  one 
straight,  hard  line.  He  looked  at  John  mildly,  and  his 
words  seemed  destitute  of  all  offense ;  yet  John  felt  that 
the  lightnings  were  playing  around  them. 

"  I  shall  write  a  note  to  Miss  Maurel,"  the  prince 
promised,  as  he  made  his  way  toward  the  writing-table, 
"  and  ask  her  to  visit  me  upon  some  other  afternoon." 


XXIX 

Back  again  to  his  rooms,  and,  later  on,  once  more 
to  Louise's  little  house  in  Kensington;  a  few  minutes' 
masterful  pleading,  and  then  success.  Louise  wrapped 
herself  up  and  descended  to  the  street  by  his  side. 

For  an  hour  or  more  John  drove  steadily  westward, 
scarcely  speaking  more  than  a  chance  word.  It  was 
twilight  when  he  brought  the  car  to  a  standstill.  Lou- 
ise raised  her  veil  and  looked  up. 

"  Well  ?  "  she  asked  inquiringly. 

He  pushed  back  the  throttle  on  his  steering-wheel  and 
stopped  the  engine.  Then  he  turned  toward  her. 

"  I  have  something  to  say  to  you,"  he  said.  "  I  have 
brought  you  here  that  I  may  say  it  in  my  own  way 
and  in  my  own  atmosphere." 

She  responded  instantly  to  his  mood,  although  she  did 
not  yet  grasp  the  full  significance  of  the  situation.  She 
leaned  forward  in  the  car,  and  her  eyes  were  lighted 
with  interest.  Into  their  faces  a  slight,  drizzling  rain 
was  carried  at  intervals  by  a  gusty,  north  wind.  The 
sky  was  murky  gray,  except  for  one  black  mass  of  cloud 
that  seemed  bending  almost  over  their  heads. 

Down  at  their  feet  —  they  had  made  a  circuit  and 
were  facing  London  again  —  began  the  long  lines  of 
feeble  lights  which  lit  the  great  avenues  stretching  on- 
ward to  the  city,  the  lights  of  suburban  thoroughfares, 
of  local  railways,  and  here  and  there  a  more  brilliant 
illumination  of  some  picture  palace  or  place  of  amuse- 
ment. Farther  away  still,  the  vast  glow  from  the  heart 


THE  HILLMAN  257 

of  the  city  was  beginning  to  flare  against  the  murky 
sky  —  here  red  and  threatening,  as  if  from  some  great 
conflagration;  in  other  places  yellow,  with  a  sicklier 
light  of  fog-strangled  brilliance. 

**  This  is  like  you !  "  Louise  murmured.  "  You  had 
to  bring  me  out  to  a  hilltop,  on  the  dreariest  hour  of  a 
wet  March  afternoon,  to  tell  me  —  what?  " 

"  First  of  all,"  John  began,  "  I  will  answer  a  question 
which  you  have  asked  me  three  times  since  we  started 
out  this  afternoon.  You  wanted  to  know  how  I  found 
out  that  you  were  not  going  to  tea  with  the  prince. 
Well,  here  is  the  truth.  I  asked  the  prince  to  change 
the  day  of  your  visit  to  him." 

Her  fine,  silky  eyebrows  came  a  little  closer  together. 

"  You  asked  him  that  ?  "  she  repeated. 

John  nodded. 

"  And  he  consented?  " 

"  I  will  explain,"  John  continued.  "  It  was  a  most 
unfortunate  circumstance,  but  in  the  club,  after  lunch, 
the  subject  of  spending  the  afternoon  came  up.  The 
prince  spoke  of  an  engagement.  He  was  tied  at  home, 
he  said,  from  four  to  six.  Some  of  the  men  began  to 
chaff  him,  and  suggested  that  he  was  entertaining  some 
lady  friend,  his  latest  favorite  —  well,  I  dare  say  you 
can  imagine  the  rest,"  John  broke  off.  "  The  prince, 
thoughtlessly,  I  am  sure,  and  probably  to  get  rid  of 
them,  pleaded  guilty.  Then  I  came  down  to  see  you, 
and  from  what  you  said  I  discovered  that  it  was  you 
who  were  to  be  his  visitor." 

Her  fingers  played  nervously  for  a  moment  with  the 
edge  of  the  rug.  She  drew  it  higher  up. 

"  Well,  when  I  left  your  house  the  first  time  this  aft- 
ernoon, I  went  straight  back  to  the  prince.  I  pointed 
out  to  him  that  after  what  had  been  said,  as  it  might 


258  THE  HILLMAN 

become  known  that  you  were  his  guest  of  to-day,  i€ 
would  be  better  for  him  to  postpone  your  visit.  He 
agreed  to  do  so." 

"  Was  that  all  that  passed  between  you  ?  " 

"  Not  quite,"  John  replied.  "  He  asked  me  what 
concern  it  was  of  mine,  and  I  told  him  exactly  what  my 
concern  was.  I  told  him  I  hoped  that  some  day  you 
would  be  my  wife." 

She  sat  quite  still,  looking  down  upon  the  flaring 
lights.  She  was  filled  with  a  restless  desire  to  escape, 
to  start  the  motor  herself  and  rush  through  the  wet  air 
into  London  and  safety.  And  side  by  side  with  that 
idesire  she  knew  that  there  was  nothing  in  the  world  she 
wanted  so  much  as  to  stay  just  where  she  was,  and  to 
hear  just  the  words  she  was  going  to  hear. 

"  So  much  for  that !  "  John  proceeded.  "  And  now, 
please  listen.  I  have  brought  you  out  here  because 
under  these  conditions  I  feel  more  master  of  myself  and 
my  thoughts,  and  of  the  things  I  want  to  say  to  you. 
Something  takes  me  by  the  throat  in  your  little  draw- 
ing-room, with  its  shaded  lights,  its  perfume  of  flowers, 
and  its  atmosphere  of  perfection.  You  sit  enthroned 
there  like  the  queen  of  a  world  I  know  nothing  of,  and 
all  the  time  letters  and  flowers  and  flattering  invitations 
are  showered  upon  you  from  the  greatest  men  in  Lon- 
don. The  atmosphere  there  stifles  me,  Louise.  Out 
here  you  are  a  woman  and  I  a  man,  and  those  other 
things  fall  away.  I  have  tried  my  best  to  come  a  little 
way  into  sympathy  with  your  life.  I  want  you  now  to 
make  up  your  mind  to  come  down  a  little  way  into 
mine ! " 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  We  are  still  too  far  apart,"  she  murmured. 
"  Can't  you  understand  that  yourself  ?  " 


THE  HILLMAN  259 

"  I  have  been  a  pupil  for  many  months,"  he  answered, 
turning  toward  her,  with  one  arm  at  the  back  of  her 
cushions  and  the  fingers  of  the  other  hand  suddenly 
seeking  hers.  "  Can't  you  understand,  if  you  do  care  a 
little,  if  you  have  just  a  little  flame  of  love  in  your  heart 
for  me,  that  many  of  these  other  things  which  keep  us 
apart  are  like  the  lime-light  which  flashes  out  to  give 
artificial  light  in  an  honest  darkness?  Don't  you  be- 
lieve, at  the  bottom  of  your  heart,  that  you  can  be  hap- 
pier if  you  will  climb  with  me  to  the  place  where  we 
first  met,  even  where  the  clouds  lean  over  my  own  hills? 
You  thought  me  very  narrow  then.  Perhaps  I  am. 
But  I  think  you  are  beginning  to  understand,  dear,  that 
that  life  is  only  a  type.  We  can  wander  about  where 
you  will.  My  hills  are  only  the  emblems  of  the  things 
that  are  dear  to  me.  There  are  many  countries  I  want 
to  visit.  I  don't  want  to  cramp  your  life.  You  can't 
really  be  afraid  of  that,  because  it  is  the  most  widening 
thing  in  the  world  that  I  have  to  give  you  —  my  love, 
the  love  of  my  heart  and  my  soul !  " 

She  felt  the  sudden  snapping  of  every  nerve  in  her 
body,  the  passing  away  of  all  sense  of  will  or  resistance. 
She  was  conscious  only  of  the  little  movement  toward 
him,  the  involuntary  yielding  of  herself.  She  lay  back 
in  his  arms,  and  the  kisses  which  closed  her  eyes  and  lips 
seemed  to  be  working  some  strange  miracle. 

She  was  in  some  great  empty  space,  breathing  won- 
derful things.  She  was  on  the  hilltops,  and  from  the 
heights  she  looked  down  at  herself  as  she  had  been  — 
a  poor  little  white-faced  puppet,  strutting  about  an 
overheated  stage,  in  a  fetid  atmosphere  of  adulation, 
with  a  brain  artificially  stimulated,  and  a  heart  growing 
cold  with  selfishness.  She  pitied  herself  as  she  had  been. 
Then  she  opened  her  eyes  with  a  start  of  joy. 


a6o  THE  HILLMAN 

"  How  wonderful  it  all  is ! "  she  murmured.  "  You 
brought  me  here  to  tell  me  this  ?  " 

"  And  to  hear  something !  "  he  insisted. 

"  I  have  tried  not  to,  John,"  she  confessed,  amazed 
at  the  tremble  of  her  sweet,  low  voice.  Her  words 
seemed  like  the  confession  of  a  weeping  child.  "  I  can- 
not help  it.  I  do  love  you!  I  have  tried  not  to  so 
hard,  but  now  —  now  I  shall  not  try  any  more !  " 

They  drove  quietly  down  the  long  hill  and  through 
the  dripping  streets.  Not  another  word  passed  be- 
tween them  till  they  drew  up  outside  her  door.  She  felt 
a  new  timidity  as  he  handed  her  out,  an  immense  grati- 
tude for  his  firm  tone  and  intuitive  tact. 

"  No,  I  won't  come  in,  thanks,"  he  declared.  "  You 
have  so  little  time  to  rest  and  get  ready  for  the  theater." 

"  You  will  be  there  to-night  ?  "  she  asked. 

He  laughed  as  if  there  were  humor  in  the  suggestion 
of  his  absence. 

"  Of  course !  " 

He  slipped  in  his  clutch  and  drove  off  through  the 
rain-gleaming  streets  with  the  smile  and  air  of  a  con- 
queror. Louise  passed  into  her  little  house  to  find  a 
visitor  waiting  for  her  there. 


XXX 

Eugene,  Prince  of  Seyre,  had  spent  the  early  part 
of  that  afternoon  in  a  manner  wholly  strange  to  him. 
In  pursuance  of  an  order  given  to  his  majordomo  im- 
mediately on  his  return  from  the  club  after  lunch,  the 
great  reception  rooms  of  Seyre  House,  the  picture-gal- 
lery and  the  ballroom,  were  prepared  as  if  for  a  recep- 
tion. Dust-sheets  were  swept  aside,  masterpieces  of 
painting  and  sculpture  were  uncovered,  the  soft  bril- 
liance of  concealed  electric  lights  lit  up  many  dark  cor- 
ners. 

When  all  was  ready,  the  prince,  with  his  hands 
clasped  behind  him,  with  expressionless  face  and  slow, 
thoughtful  movements,  passed  from  room  to  room  of 
the  treasure-house  which  had  come  to  him  through 
a  long  line  of  distinguished  and  famous  men.  Here 
and  there  he  paused  to  handle  with  the  fingers  of  a  con- 
noisseur some  excellent  piece  of  bronze  statuary,  some 
miracle  of  Sevres  china,  some  treasure  of  carved  ivory, 
yellow  with  age.  And  more  than  once  he  stood  still 
for  several  minutes  in  rapt  contemplation  of  one  of 
the  great  masterpieces  with  which  the  walls  were  hung. 

As  he  passed,  a  solitary  figure,  from  one  to  another 
of  that  long  chain  of  lofty,  palatial  rooms,  his  stature 
seemed  more  than  ever  insignificant;  yet  he  walked  al- 
ways with  the  dignity  of  the  master.  Notwithstanding 
the  slight  excesses  of  his  immaculate  morning  dress, 
his  pallid  features,  his  insignificant  build,  he  appeared 


262  THE  HILLMAN 

to  belong  to  these  things,  to  dominate  them,  to  under- 
stand them.  Every  beautiful  object  upon  which  he 
looked  brought  back  to  his  memory  some  reminiscence 
of  his  years  of  travel.  He  knew  the  history  of  the 
chinas  and  the  bronzes,  the  statuary  and  the  lacquer- 
work,  the  friezes,  and  the  great  pictures  which  adorned 
his  house.  Perhaps,  he  thought,  as  he  paused  to  study 
some  Italian  tapestry  of  his  own  discovery,  he  had  spent 
too  many  years  in  the  contemplative  life. 

There  had  been  many  careers  open  to  him  in  his 
younger  days.  France  was  still  his  own  country,  and 
he  might  easily  have  joined  the  long  line  of  soldiers 
whose  portraits  filled  one  side  of  the  picture-gallery. 
Once  he  had  had  ambitions,  either  to  wield  the  sword 
or  to  take  his  place  in  the  world  of  diplomacy.  It  was 
his  political  inheritance  which  had  deadened  them,  the 
awful  debt  of  blood  that  he  still  owed  to  the  enemies 
of  his  race.  He  had  found  the  spirit  of  patriotism 
dead  within  him,  and  in  that  day  he  had  turned  his  back 
upon  his  country.  Since  then  he  had  carried  his  great 
name  through  the  pleasure  places  of  the  world,  always 
upholding  its  dignity,  perhaps,  but  never  adding  to  its 
luster. 

He  was  forty-one  years  old  that  day,  and  the  few 
words  which  John  had  spoken  to  him  barely  an  hour 
ago  had  made  him  realize  that  there  was  only  one  thing 
in  life  that  he  desired.  The  sight  of  his  treasures 
merely  soothed  his  vanity.  It  left  empty  and  unsatis- 
fied his  fuller  and  deeper  desire  of  living.  He  told 
himself  that  his  time  had  come.  Others  of  his  race 
had  paid  a  great  price  for  the  things  they  had  coveted 
in  life.  He,  too,  must  follow  their  example. 

He  was  in  Louise's  drawing-room  when  she  returned 
—  Louise,  with  hair  and  cheeks  a  little  damp,  but  with 


THE  HILLMAN  263 

a  wonderful  light  in  her  eyes  and  with  footsteps  that 
seemed  to  fall  upon  air. 

*'  Some  tea  and  a  bath  this  moment,  Aline ! "  she 
called  out,  as  she  ran  lightly  up  the  stairs.  "  Never 
mind  about  dinner,  I  am  so  late.  I  will  have  some  toast. 
Be  quick ! " 

"  Madame  — "  Aline  began. 

"  Don't  bother  me  about  anything  now,"  Louise  in- 
terrupted. "  I  will  throw  my  things  off  while  you  get 
the  bath  ready." 

She  stepped  into  her  little  room,  throwing  off  her 
cloak  as  she  entered.  Then  she  stopped  short,  almost 
upon  the  threshold.  The  prince  had  risen  to  his  feet. 

"  Eugene ! " 

He  came  toward  her.  Even  as  he  stooped  to  kiss  her 
fingers,  his  eyes  seemed  to  take  in  her  disheveled  condi- 
tion, the  little  patches  of  color  in  her  cheeks,  the  radiant 
happiness  which  shone  in  her  eyes. 

"  I  am  not  an  unwelcome  intruder,  I  hope,"  he  said. 
"  But  how  wet  you  are ! " 

The  fingers  which  he  released  fell  nervelessly  to  her 
side.  She  stood  looking  at  him  as  if  confronted  with 
a  sudden  nightmare.  It  was  as  if  this  new-found  life 
were  being  slowly  drained  from  her  veins. 

"  You  are  overtired,"  he  murmured,  leading  her  with 
solicitude  toward  an  easy  chair.  "  One  would  imagine, 
from  your  appearance,  that  I  was  the  bearer  of  some 
terrible  tidings.  Let  me  assure  you  that  it  is  not  so." 

He  spoke  with  his  usual  deliberation,  but  she  seemed 
powerless  to  recover  herself.  She  was  still  dazed  and 
white.  She  sank  into  the  chair  and  looked  at  him. 

"  Nothing,  I  trust,"  he  went  on,  "  has  happened  to 
disturb  you?" 
i     "  Nothing   at   all,"    she   declared   hastily.     "  I   am 


264  THE  HILLMAN 

tired.  I  ran  up-stairs  perhaps  a  little  too  quickly. 
Aline  had  not  told  me  that  there  was  any  one 
here." 

"  I  had  a  fancy  to  see  you  this  afternoon,"  the  prince 
explained,  "  and,  finding  you  out,  I  took  the  liberty  of 
waiting.  If  you  would  rather  I  went  away  and  came 
for  you  later,  please  do  not  hesitate  to  say  so." 

"  Of  course  not !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  I  do  not  know 
why  I  should  have  been  so  silly.  Aline,  take  my  coat 
and  veil,"  she  directed,  turning  to  the  maid,  who  was 
lingering  at  the  other  end  of  the  room.  "  I  am  not 
wet.  Serve  some  tea  in  here.  I  will  have  my  bath 
later,  when  I  change  to  go  to  the  theater." 

She  spoke  bravely,  but  fear  was  in  her  heart.  She 
tried  to  tell  herself  that  this  visit  was  a  coincidence, 
that  it  meant  nothing,  but  all  the  time  she  knew  other- 
wise. 

The  door  closed  behind  Aline,  and  they  were  alone. 
The  prince,  as  if  anxious  to  give  her  time  to  recover 
herself,  walked  to  the  window  and  stood  for  some  mo- 
ments looking  out.  When  he  turned  around,  Louise 
had  at  least  nerved  herself  to  meet  what  she  felt  was 
imminent. 

The  prince  approached  her  deliberately.  She  knew 
what  he  was  going  to  say. 

"  Louise,"  he  began,  drawing  a  chair  to  her  side,  "  I 
have  found  myself  thinking  a  great  deal  about  you  dur- 
ing the  last  few  weeks." 

She  did  not  interrupt  him.  She  simply  waited  and 
watched. 

"  I  have  come  to  a  certain  determination,"  he  pro- 
ceeded ;  "  one  which,  if  you  will  grace  it  with  your  ap- 
proval, will  give  me  great  happiness.  I  ask  you  to  for- 
get certain  things  which  have  passed  between  us.  I 


THE  HILLMAN  265 

have  come  to  you  to-day  to  beg  you  to  do  me  the  honor 
of  becoming  my  wife." 

She  turned  her  head  very  slowly  until  she  was  looking 
him  full  in  the  face.  Her  lips  were  a  little  parted,  her 
eyes  a  little  strained.  The  prince  was  leaning  toward 
her  in  a  conventional  attitude;  his  words  had  been 
spoken  simply  and  in  his  usual  conversational  manner. 
There  was  something  about  him,  however,  profoundly 
convincing. 

"  Your  wife ! "  Louise  repeated. 

"  If  you  will  do  me  that  great  honor." 

It  seemed  at  first  as  if  her  nerves  were  strained  to 
the  breaking-point.  The  situation  was  one  with  which 
her  brain  seemed  unable  to  grapple.  She  set  her  teeth 
tightly.  Then  she  had  a  sudden  interlude  of  wonderful 
clear-sightedness.  She  was  almost  cool. 

"  You  must  forgive  my  surprise,  Eugene,"  she 
begged.  "  We  have  known  each  other  now  for  some 
twelve  years,  have  we  not  ?  —  and  I  believe  that  this  is 
the  first  time  you  have  ever  hinted  at  anything  of  the 
sort!" 

"  One  gathers  wisdom,  perhaps,  with  the  years,"  he 
replied.  "  I  am  forty-one  years  old  to-day.  I  have 
spent  the  early  hours  of  this  afternoon  in  reflection, 
and  behold  the  result ! " 

"  You  have  spoken  to  me  before,"  she  said  slowly, 
"  of  different  things.  You  have  offered  me  a  great  deal 
in  life,  but  never  your  name.  I  do  not  understand  this 
sudden  change ! " 

"  Louise,"  he  declared,  "  if  I  do  not  tell  you  the  truth 
now,  you  will  probably  guess  it.  Besides,  this  is  the 
one  time  in  their  lives  when  a  man  and  a  woman  should 
speak  nothing  but  the  truth.  It  is  for  fear  of  losing 
you  —  that  is  why." 


266  THE  HILLMAN 

Her  self-control  suddenly  gave  way.  She  threw  her- 
self back  in  her  chair.  She  began  to  laugh  and  stopped 
abruptly,  the  tears  streaming  from  her  eyes.  The 
prince  leaned  forward.  He  took  her  hands  in  his,  but 
she  drew  them  away. 

"  You  are  too  late,  Eugene !  "  she  said.  "  I  almost 
loved  you.  I  was  almost  yours  to  do  whatever  you 
liked  with.  But  somehow,  somewhere,  notwithstanding 
all  your  worldly  knowledge  and  mine,  we  missed  it.  We 
do  not  know  the  truth  about  life,  you  and  I  —  at  least 
you  do  not,  and  I  did  not." 

He  rose  very  slowly  to  his  feet.  There  was  no  visi- 
ble change  in  his  face  save  a  slight  whitening  of  the 
cheeks. 

"  And  the  sequel  to  this  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  have  promised  to  marry  John  Strangewey,"  she 
told  him. 

"  That,"  he  replied,  "  is  impossible !  I  have  a  prior 
claim." 

The  light  of  battle  flamed  suddenly  in  her  eyes.  Her 
nervousness  had  gone.  She  was  a  strong  woman,  face 
to  face  with  him  now,  taller  than  he,  seeming,  indeed, 
to  tower  over  him  in  the  splendor  of  her  anger.  She 
was  like  a  lioness  threatened  with  the  loss  of  the  one 
dear  thing. 

"  Assert  it,  then ! "  she  cried  defiantly.  "  Do  what 
you  will.  Go  to  him  this  minute,  if  you  have  courage 
enough,  if  it  seems  to  you  well.  Claim,  indeed !  Right ! 
I  have  the  one  right  every  woman  in  the  world  possesses 
—  to  give  herself,  body  and  soul,  to  the  man  she  loves ! 
That  is  the  only  claim  and  the  only  right  I  recognize, 
and  I  am  giving  myself  to  him,  when  he  wants  me, 
forever ! " 

She  stopped  suddenly.     Neither  of  them  had  heard 


THE  HILLMAN  267 

a  discreet  knock  at  the  door.  Aline  had  entered  with 
the  tea.  There  was  a  moment  of  silence. 

"  Put  it  down  here  by  my  side,  Aline,"  her  mistress 
ordered,  "  and  show  the  Prince  of  Seyre  out." 

Aline  held  the  door  open.  For  a  single  moment  the 
prince  hesitated.  Then  he  picked  up  his  hat  and  bowed. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  said,  "  this  may  not  be  the  last 
word ! " 


XXXI 

Jennings  stood  with  a  decanter  in  his  hand,  looking 
resentfully  at  his  master's  untasted  wine.  He  shook 
his  head  ponderously.  Not  only  was  the  wine  un- 
touched, but  the  Cumberland  Times  lay  unopened  upon 
the  table.  Grim  and  severe  in  his  high-backed  chair, 
Stephen  Strangewey  sat  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
curtained  window. 

"  There's  nothing  wrong  with  the  wine,  I  hope,  sir  ?  " 
the  man  asked.  "It's  not  corked  or  anything,  sir?'* 

"  Nothing  is  the  matter  with  it,"  Stephen  answered. 
"  Bring  me  my  pipe." 

Jennings  shook  his  head  firmly. 

"  There's  no  call  for  you,  sir,"  he  declared,  "  to  drop 
out  of  your  old  habits.  You  shall  have  your  pipe  when 
you've  drunk  that  glass  of  port,  and  not  before.  Bless 
me!  There's  the  paper  by  your  side,  all  unread,  and 
full  of  news,  for  I've  glanced  it  through  myself.  Corn 
was  higher  yesterday  at  Market  Ketton,  and  there's 
talk  of  a  bad  shortage  of  fodder  in  some  parts." 

Stephen  raised  his  glass  to  his  lips  and  drained  its 
contents. 

"  Now  bring  me  my  pipe,  Jennings,"  he  ordered. 

The  old  man  was  still  disposed  to  grumble. 

"  Drinking  wine  like  that  as  if  it  were  some  public- 
house  stuff ! "  he  muttered,  as  he  crossed  the  room, 
toward  the  sideboard.  "  It's  more  a  night,  this,  to  my 
way  of  thinking,  for  drinking  a  second  glass  of  wine 


THE  HILLMAN  269 

than  for  shilly-shallying  with  the  first.  There's  the 
wind  coming  across  Townley  Moor  and  down  the  Fella 
strong  enough  to  blow  the  rocks  out  of  the  ground.  It 
'minds  me  of  the  time  Mr.  John  was  out  with  the  Ter- 
ritorials, and  they  tried  the  moor  for  their  big  guns." 

The  rain  lashed  the  window-panes,  and  the  wind 
whistled  past  the  front  of  the  house.  Stephen  sat  quite 
still,  as  if  listening  —  it  may  have  been  to  the  storm. 

"  Well,  here's  your  pipe,  sir,"  Jennings  continued, 
laying  it  by  his  master's  side,  "  and  your  tobacco  and 
the  matches.  If  you'd  smoke  less  and  drink  a  glass 
or  two  more  of  the  right  stuff,  it  would  be  more  to  my; 
liking." 

Stephen  filled  his  pipe  with  firm  fingers.  Then  he 
laid  it  down,  unlit,  by  his  side. 

**  Bring  me  back  the  port,  Jennings,"  he  ordered^ 
"  and  a  glass  for  yourself." 

Jennings  obeyed  promptly.  Stephen  filled  both 
glasses,  and  the  two  men  looked  at  each  other  as  they 
held  them  out. 

"  Here's  confusion  to  all  women ! "  Stephen  said,  as 
he  raised  his  to  his  lips. 

"  Amen,  sir !  "  Jennings  muttered. 

They  set  down  the  two  empty  glasses.  Stephen  lit 
his  pipe.  He  sat  smoking  stolidly,  blowing  out  great 
clouds  of  smoke.  Jennings  retreated,  coughing  re- 
sentfully. 

"  Spoils  the  tast  of  good  wine,  that  tobacco  do,'* 
he  snapped.  "  Good  port  like  that  should  be  left  to  lie 
upon  the  palate,  so  to  speak.  Bless  me,  what's  that?  " 

Above  the  roar  of  the  wind  came  another  and  un- 
mistakable sound.  The  front  door  had  been  opened 
and  shut.  There  were  steps  upon  the  stone  floor  of 
the  hall  —  firm,  familiar  steps. 


270  THE  HILLMAN 

Jennings,  with  his  mouth  open,  stood  staring  at  the 
door.  Stephen  slowly  turned  his  head.  The  hand 
which  held  his  pipe  was  as  firm  as  a  rock,  but  there  was 
a  queer  little  gleam  of  expectation  in  his  eyes.  Then 
the  door  was  thrown  open  and  John  entered.  The  rain 
was  dripping  from  his  clothes.  He  was  breathless  from 
his  struggle  with  the  elements. 

The  two  other  men  looked  at  him  fixedly.  They  both 
realized  the  same  thing  at  the  same  moment  —  there 
was  no  trace  of  the  returned  prodigal  in  John's  coun^ 
tenance,  or  in  his  buoyant  expression.  The  ten-mile 
ride  seemed  to  have  brought  back  all  his  color. 

**  Master  John !  "  Jennings  faltered. 

Stephen  said  nothing.  John  crossed  the  room  and 
gripped  his  brother's  hand. 

"  Wet  through  to  the  skin,  and  starving ! "  he  de- 
clared. "  I  thought  I'd  find  something  at  Ketton,  but 
it  was  all  I  could  do  to  get  Gibson,  at  the  George,  to 
lend  me  a  horse.  Give  me  a  glass  of  wine,  Jennings. 
I'll  change  my  clothes  —  I  expect  you've  kept  them 
aired." 

Not  a  word  of  explanation  concerning  his  sudden 
return,  nor  did  either  of  the  two  ask  any  questions. 
They  set  the  bell  clanging  in  the  stable-yard  and  found 
shelter  for  the  borrowed  horse.  Presently,  in  dry 
clothes,  John  sat  down  to  a  plentiful  meal.  His  brother 
watched  him  with  a  grim  smile. 

"  You  haven't  forgotten  how  to  eat  in  London, 
John,"  he  remarked. 

"  If  I  had,  a  ten-mile  ride  on  a  night  like  this  would 
help  me  to  remember!  How's  the  land  doing?  " 

"  Things  are  backward.  The  snow  lay  late,  and 
we've  had  drying  winds." 

"And  the  stock?" 


THE  HILLMAN  ayr 

"Moderate.  We  are  short  of  heifers.  But  you 
didn't  come  back  from  London  to  ask  about  the  farm." 

John  pushed  back  his  plate  and  drew  his  chair  op- 
posite to  his  brother's. 

"  I  did  not,"  he  assented.  "  I  came  back  to  tell  you 
my  news." 

"  I  was  thinking  that  might  be  it,"  Stephen  muttered. 

John  crossed  the  room,  found  his  pipe  in  a  drawer, 
filled  it  with  tobacco,  and  lit  it. 

"  Old  man,"  he  said,  as  he  returned  to  his  place, 
"  it's  all  very  well  for  you  and  old  Jennings  to  put  your 
heads  together  every  night  and  drink  confusion  to  all 
women ;  but  you  know  very  well  that  if  there  are  to  be 
any  more  Strangeweys  at  Peak  Hall,  either  you  or  I 
must  marry ! " 

Stephen  moved  uneasily  in  his  chair. 

"  If  you're  going  to  marry  that  woman  — "  he  began. 

"  I  am  going  to  marry  Louise  Maurel,"  John  inter- 
rupted firmly.  "  Stephen,  listen  to  me  for  a  moment 
before  you  say  another  word,  please.  It  is  all  settled. 
She  has  promised  to  be  my  wife.  I  don't  forget  what 
we've  been  to  each  other.  I  don't  forget  the  old  name 
and  the  old  tradition ;  but  I  have  been  fortunate  enough 
,  to  meet  a  woman  whom  I  love,  and  I  am  going  to  marry 
her.  Don't  speak  hurriedly,  Stephen!  Think  what- 
ever you  will,  but  keep  it  to  yourself.  Some  day  I 
shall  expect  you  to  give  me  your  hand  and  tell  me  you 
are  glad." 

Stephen  knocked  the  ashes  deliberately  from  his  pipe. 

"  I  will  tell  you  this  much  now,"  he  said.  "  I  had 
rather  that  we  Strangeweys  died  out,  that  the  roof 
dropped  off  Peak  Hall  and  the  walls  stood  naked  to 
the  sky,  than  that  this  woman  should  be  your  wife  and 
the  mother  of  your  children ! " 


272  THE  HILLMAN 

"  Let  it  go  at  that,  then,  Stephen,"  John  replied. 
"  It  is  enough  for  me  to  say  that  I  will  not  take  it  ill 
from  you,  because  you  do  not  know  her." 

"  But  I  do  know  her,"  Stephen  answered.  "  Per- 
haps she  didn't  tell  you  that  I  paid  her  a  visit?  " 

"  You  paid  her  a  visit?  " 

"  Aye,  that  I  did !  She  wouldn't  tell  you.  There'll 
be  many  a  thing  in  life  she  won't  tell  you.  I  went  to 
let  her  hear  from  my  lips  what  I  thought  of  her  as  a 
wife  for  you.  I  told  her  what  I  thought  of  a  woman 
who  plays  the  part  of  a  wanton — " 

"  Stephen  !  "  John  thundered. 

"  The  part  of  an  adulterous  wife  upon  the  stage  for 
every  man  and  woman  who  pay  their  silver  to  go  and 
gape  at !  It  seems  I  did  no  good  —  no  good,  that  is, 
if  she  has  promised  to  marry  you." 

John  drew  a  breath.  His  task  was  harder,  even, 
than  he  had  imagined.  All  the  time  he  tried  to  keep 
one  thought  fixed  in  his  mind.  Stephen  was  his  elder 
brother.  It  was  Stephen  who  had  been  his  guardian 
and  his  guide  through  all  his  youth.  He  thought  of 
Stephen's  fifty  odd  years  of  simple  and  strenuous  living, 
of  his  charity,  of  his  strength  —  that  very  strength 
which  had  kept  him  in  the  narrow  way,  which  had  kept 
him  from  looking  to  the  right  or  to  the  left  in  his  walk 
through  life. 

"  Stephen,"  John  said,  "  you  are  growing  harder 
with  the  years.  Was  there  never  a  time,  when  you 
were  younger,  when  you  were  my  age,  when  you  felt 
differently  toward  women  ?  " 

"  Never,  thank  Heaven ! "  Stephen  replied.  "  I  was 
too  near  the  sorrow  that  fell  upon  our  house  when  our 
father  died  with  a  broken  heart.  There  were  the  other 
two  as  well  —  one  with  a  bullet  in  his  brain,  the  other 


THE  HILLMAN  273 

a  drunkard.  Maybe,  when  I  was  your  age,  I  felt  at 
times  what  I  suppose  you  feel.  Well,  I  just  took  it 
in  both  hands  and  strangled  it.  If  you  must  have  a 
sweetheart,  why  don't  you  take  the  little  fair-haired 
girl  —  Sophy,  you  called  her  ?  She'd  do  you  as  little 
harm  as  any  of  them." 

"  Because  it  is  not  a  sweetheart  of  that  sort  I  want," 
John  protested  vigorously.  "  I've  had  the  same  feel- 
ings as  most  men,  I  suppose,  but  I've  fought  my  battle 
out  to  the  end,  only  for  a  different  reason.  I  want  a 
wife  and  I  want  children." 

"  Will  she  bring  you  children,  that  woman  ?  "  Stephen 
asked  bitterly. 

"  I  hope  so,"  John  asserted  simply.  "  I  believe 
so." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.  Stephen  lit  his  pipe 
and  puffed  steadily  at  it,  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  log 
that  blazed  on  the  hearth. 

"  There  is  a  muzzle  upon  my  mouth,"  he  said  pres- 
ently. "  There  are  words  close  to  my  lips  which  would 
part  you  and  me,  so  I'll  say  no  more.  Go  your  own 
way,  John.  I'll  ask  you  but  one  more  question,  and 
you  must  take  that  as  man  from  man,  brother  from 
brother.  How  old  is  she?  " 

"  Twenty-seven." 

"  And  she  has  been  an  actress,  playing  parts  like 
the  one  I  saw  her  in,  for  how  long?  " 

"  Since  she  was  nineteen,"  John  replied. 

"  And  you  believe  she's  a  good  woman  ?  " 

John  gripped  at  the  sides  of  his  chair.  With  a  tre- 
mendous effort  he  kept  the  torrent  of  words  from  his 
lips. 

"  I  know  she  is,"  he  answered  calmly. 

"  Has  she  told  you  so?  " 


274  THE  HILLMAN 

"A  man  has  no  need  to  put  such  a  question  to  the 
woman  he  cares  for." 

"  Then  you  haven't  asked  her  ?  " 

John  laid  down  his  pipe  and  rose  to  his  feet.  He 
gripped  his  brother  by  the  arm. 

"  Stephen,"  he  said,  "  it's  a  hard  fight  for  me,  this, 
to  sit  face  to  face  with  you  and  know  what  you  are 
thinking,  with  the  love  for  this  woman  strong  and  sweet 
in  my  heart.  You  don't  understand,  Stephen;  you're 
a  long  way  from  understanding.  But  you  are  my 
brother.  Don't  make  it  too  hard!  I  am  not  a  child. 
Believe  in  me.  I  would  not  take  any  woman  to  be  my 
wife,  and  the  mother  of  my  children,  who  was  not  a 
good  woman.  I  am  off  to-morrow  morning,  Stephen. 
I  came  all  the  way  just  on  an  impulse,  because  I  felt 
that  I  must  tell  you  myself.  It  would  be  one  of  the 
best  things  in  the  world  to  ride  that  ten  miles  back 
again  to-morrow  morning,  to  have  told  you  how  things 
are,  to  have  felt  your  hand  in  mine,  and  to  know  that 
there  was  no  shadow  of  misunderstanding  between  us !  " 

Stephen,  too,  rose  to  his  feet.  They  stood  together 
before  the  fire. 

*'  Man  to  man,  John,"  Stephen  said,  as  he  gripped  his 
brother  by  the  hands,  "  I  love  you  this  moment  as  I 
always  have  done  and  as  I  always  shall  do.  And  if  this 
thing  must  be  between  us,  I'll  say  but  one  last  word, 
and  you'll  take  it  from  me,  even  though  I  am  the  only 
man  on  earth  you'd  take  it  from.  Before  you  marry, 
ask  her  1 " 


XXXII 

John  went  back  to  town,  telling  himself  that  all  had 
gone  as  well  as  he  had  expected.  He  had  done  his  duty. 
He  had  told  Stephen  his  news,  and  they  had  parted 
friends.  Yet  all  the  time  he  was  conscious  of  an  under- 
current of  disconcerting  thoughts. 

Louise  met  him  at  the  station,  and  he  fancied  that 
her  expression,  too,  although  she  welcomed  him  gaily 
enough,  was  a  little  anxious. 

"  Well  ?  "  she  asked,  as  she  took  his  arm  and  led  him 
to  where  her  motor-car  was  waiting.  "  What  did  that 
terrible  brother  of  yours  say?  " 

John  made  a  little  grimace. 

"  It  might  have  been  worse,"  he  declared.  "  Stephen 
wasn't  pleased,  of  course.  He  hates  women  like  poison, 
and  he  always  will.  That  is  because  he  doesn't  know 
very  much  about  them,  and  because  he  will  insist  upon 
dwelling  upon  certain  unhappy  incidents  of  our  family 
history." 

"  I  shall  never  forget  the  morning  he  came  to  call 
on  me,"  Louise  sighed.  "  He  threatened  all  sorts  of 
terrible  things  if  I  did  not  give  you  up." 

"  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  about  it  ?  "  John  asked. 

"  I  thought  it  might  worry  you,"  she  replied,  "  and 
it  couldn't  do  any  good.  He  believed  he  was  doing  his 
duty.  John,  you  are  sure  about  yourself,  aren't  you  ?  '* 

"  Come  and  have  tea  with  me  in  my  rooms,  and  I'll 
tell  you,"  he  laughed. 


aj6  THE  HILLMAN 

"  Just  what  I'd  planned  to  do,"  she  assented,  with  a 
sigh  of  content.  "  It's  too  late  to  go  home  and  get 
back  to  the  theater  comfortably." 

"  The  theater !  "  John  murmured,  a  few  minutes  later, 
when  they  were  seated  in  his  comfortable  little  sitting 
room  and  he  had  ordered  tea.  "  Do  you  know  that  I 
grudge  those  three  or  four  hours  of  your  day?  " 

"  I  believe  I  do,  too,"  she  admitted ;  "  and  yet  a  little 
while  ago  it  was  my  only  pleasure  in  life.  Don't  sit 
over  there,  please  1  You  are  much  too  far  away. 
Closer  still !  Let  me  feel  your  arms.  You  are  strong 
and  brave,  aren't  you,  John?  You  would  not  let  any 
one  take  me  away  from  you?  " 

He  was  a  little  startled  by  the  earnestness  of  her 
words.  She  seemed  pale  and  fragile,  her  eyes  larger 
and  deeper  than  usual,  and  her  mouth  tremulous.  She 
was  like  a  child  with  the  shadow  of  some  fear  hanging 
over  her.  He  laughed  and  held  her  tightly  to  him. 

*'  There  is  nothing  that  could  take  you  away  —  you 
know  that  quite  well!  There  is  nobody  in  the  world 
whom  you  need  fear  for  a  single  moment.  If  you  have 
troubles,  I  am  here  to  share  them.  If  you  have  enemies, 
you  can  leave  me  to  dispose  of  them." 

"  I  think,"  she  murmured,  "  that  I  am  in  an  emotional 
frame  of  mind  to-day.  I  am  not  often  like  this,  you 
know.  I  woke  this  morning  feeling  so  happy  ;  and  then, 
all  of  a  sudden,  I  couldn't  somehow  believe  in  it  —  in 
myself.  I  felt  it  slip  away.  You  won't  let  it  slip 
away,  John  ? " 

"  Never  a  chance ! "  he  promised  confidently.  "  Look 
at  me.  Do  I  seem  like  a  person  to  be  easily  got  rid  of? 
What  you  need  is  a  holiday,  and  you  need  it  badly.  We 
haven't  made  any  plans  yet,  have  we?  I  wonder  whether 
we  could  break  your  contract  at  the  theater ! " 


THE  HILLMAN  277 

"  We  must  talk  to  Graillot,"  she  said.  "  There  is  a 
little  Frenchwoman  over  here  now.  I  once  saw  her  act 
in  Paris,  and  I  am  sure  she  could  play  Tht'rcse  wonder- 
fully. But  don't  let's  talk  seriously  any  longer.  Just 
let  us  sit  here  and  talk  nonsense !  " 

*'  Have  you  told  any  of  your  friends  yet,  Louise  — 
the  prince,  for  instance?  " 

He  had  asked  this  question  on  his  way  across  the  room 
to  ring  the  bell.  There  was  no  reply,  and  when  he 
turned  around,  a  moment  or  two  later,  he  was  almost 
frightened.  Louise  was  sitting  quite  still,  but  the  color 
seemed  to  have  been  drained  from  her  cheeks.  Her 
eyes  were  filled  with  some  expression  which  he  did  not 
wholly  understand.  He  only  knew  that  they  were  call- 
ing him  to  her  side,  and  he  promptly  obeyed  the  sum- 
mons. Her  head  fell  upon  his  shoulder,  her  arms  were 
locked  about  his  neck. 

"  John,"  she  sobbed,  "  I  do  not  know  what  is  the  mat- 
ter with  me.  I  am  hysterical.  Don't  ask  me  any  ques- 
tions. Don't  talk  to  me.  Hold  me  like  you  are  doing 
now,  and  listen.  I  love  you,  John  —  do  you  under- 
stand? —  I  love  you ! " 

Her  lips  sought  his  and  clung  to  them.  A  queer 
little  wave  of  passion  seemed  to  have  seized  her.  Half 
crying,  half  laughing,  she  pressed  her  face  against  his. 
"  I  do  not  want  to  act  to-night.  I  do  not  want  to  play, 
even  to  the  most  wonderful  audience  in  the  world.  I 
do  not  want  to  shake  hands  with  many  hundreds  of  peo- 
ple at  that  hateful  reception.  I  think  I  want  nothing 
else  in  the  world  but  you !  " 

She  lay,  for  a  moment,  passive  in  his  arms.  He 
smoothed  her  hair  and  kissed  her  tenderly.  Then  he 
led  her  back  to  her  place  upon  the  couch.  Her  emo- 
tional mood,  while  it  flattered  him  in  a  sense,  did  nothing 


278  THE  HILLMAN 

to  quiet  the  little  demons  of  unrest  that  pulled,  every 
now  and  then,  at  his  heart-strings. 

"  What  is  this  reception  ?  "  he  asked. 

She  made  a  little  grimace. 

"  It  is  a  formal  welcome  from  the  English  stage  to 
the  French  company  that  has  come  over  to  play  at  the 
new  French  theater,"  she  told  him.  "  Sir  Edward 
and  I  are  to  receive  them.  You  will  come,  will  you 
not?" 

"  I  haven't  an  invitation,"  he  told  her. 

"Invitation?  I  invite  you.  I  am  the  hostess  of 
the  evening." 

"  Then  I  am  not  likely  to  refuse,  am  I?  "  he  asked, 
smiling.  "  Shall  I  come  to  the  theater?  " 

"  Come  straight  to  the  reception  at  the  Whitehall 
Rooms,"  she  begged.  "  Sir  Edward  is  calling  for  me, 
and  Graillot  will  go  down  with  us.  Later,  if  you  care 
to,  you  can  drive  me  home." 

"  Don't  you  think,"  he  suggested,  "  that  it  would  be 
rather  a  good  opportunity  to  announce  our  engage- 
ment?" 

"  Not  to-night ! "  she  pleaded.  "  You  know,  I  can- 
not seem  to  believe  it  myself  except  when  I  am  with 
you  and  we  are  alone.  It  seems  too  wonderful  after 
all  these  years.  Do  you  know,  John,  that  I  am  nearly 
thirty?" 

He  laughed. 

"  How  pathetic !  All  the  more  reason,  I  should  say, 
why  we  should  let  people  know  about  it  as  soon  as 
possible." 

"There  is  no  particular  hurry,"  she  said,  a  little 
nervously.  "Let  me  get  used  to  it  myself.  I  don't 
think  you  will  have  to  wait  long.  Everything  I  have 
been  used  to  doing  and  thinking  seems  to  be  crumbling 


THE  HILLMAN  279 

up  around  me.  Last  night  I  even  hated  my  work,  or 
at  least  part  of  it." 

His  eyes  lit  up  with  genuine  pleasure. 

**  I  can't  tell  you  how  glad  I  am  to  hear  you  say 
that,"  he  declared.  "  I  don't  hate  your  work  —  I've 
got  over  that.  I  don't  think  I  am  narrow  about  it.  I 
admire  Graillot,  and  his  play  is  wonderful.  But  I 
think,  and  I  always  shall  think,  that  the  denouement  in 
that  third  act  is  damnable !  " 

She  nodded  understandingly. 

"  I  am  beginning  to  realize  how  you  must  feel,"  she 
confessed.  "  We  won't  talk  about  it  any  more  now. 
Drive  me  to  the  theater,  will  you?  I  want  to  be  there 
early  to-night,  just  to  get  everything  ready  for  chang- 
ing afterward." 

The  telephone-bell  rang  as  they  were  leaving  the 
room.  John  put  the  receiver  to  his  ear  and  a  moment 
later  held  it  away. 

"  It  is  Sophy,"  he  announced.  "  Shall  I  tell  them 
to  send  her  up  ?  " 

"  Sophy,  indeed !  "  Louise  exclaimed.  "  I  thought 
she  was  in  the  country,  on  tour,  and  was  not  expected 
back  until  to-morrow." 

"  I  thought  she  went  away  for  a  week,"  John  said, 
"  but  there  she  is,  waiting  down-stairs." 

Louise  hesitated  for  a  moment.  Then  she  came  over 
to  John  with  a  tremulous  little  smile  at  the  corners  of 
her  lips. 

"  Dear,"  she  said,  "  I  am  in  a  strange  frame  of  mind 
to-day.  I  don't  want  even  to  see  Sophy.  Tell  them 
to  send  her  up  here.  She  can  wait  for  you  while  you 
take  me  out  the  other  way." 

"  May  I  tell  her?  "  John  asked,  as  he  rang  for  the 
lift.  "  She  has  been  such  a  good  little  pal !  " 


280  THE  HILLMAN 

Once  more  Louise  seemed  to  hesitate.  A  vague  look 
of  trouble  clouded  her  face. 

«  Perhaps  you  had  better,  dear,"  she  agreed  spirit- 
lessly. "  Only  tell  her  not  to  breathe  it  to  another 
soul.  It  is  to  be  our  secret  for  a  little  time  —  not  long 
—  just  a  day  or  two  longer." 

The  gates  of  the  lift  swung  open,  and  John  raised 
her  fingers  to  his  lips. 

"  It  is  for  you  to  say,  dear,"  he  promised. 

When  he  came  back  to  his  room,  Sophy  was  curled 
up  on  the  couch  with  a  cigarette  between  her  lips.  She 
looked  at  him  severely. 

"  I  am  losing  faith  in  you,"  she  declared.  "  There 
are  signs  of  a  hurried  departure  from  this  room.  There 
is  a  distinct  perfume  of  roses  about  the  place.  You 
have  always  told  me  that  I  am  the  only  visitor  of  my 
sex  you  allow  here.  I  am  fiercely  jealous !  Tell  me 
what  this  tea-tray  and  the  empty  cups  mean  ?  " 

"  It  means  Louise,"  he  answered,  smiling.  "  She  has 
just  this  moment  gone  away." 

Sophy  sighed  with  an  air  of  mock  relief. 

"  Louise  I  suppose  I  must  tolerate,"  she  said. 
"  Fancy  her  coming  here  to  tea  with  you,  though !  " 

"I  have  been  up  to  Cumberland  for  a  day,"  he 
told  her,  "  and  Louise  came  to  meet  me  at  the  sta- 
tion." 

"How  is  your  angel  brother?"  she  asked.  "Did 
he  ask  after  me?  " 

"  He  did  mention  you,"  John  confessed.  "  I  don't 
remember  any  direct  message,  though.  You  want  a 
cocktail,  of  course,  don't  you?  " 

"  Dying  for  it,"  she  admitted.  "  I  have  had  such  a 
lull  week !  We've  been  playing  in  wretched  little  places, 
and  last  night  the  show  went  bust.  The  manager  pre- 


THE  HILLMAN  281 

sented  us  with  our  fares  home  this  morning.  We  were 
only  down  in  Surrey,  so  here  I  am." 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  to  see  you  back  again,"  John  told 
her,  after  he  had  ordered  the  cocktails.  "  Louise  has 
been  quite  lost  without  you,  too." 

"  I  didn't  want  to  go  away,"  she  sighed,  "  but  I 
do  get  so  tired  of  not  working!  Although  my  part 
wasn't  worth  anything,  I  hated  it  being  cut  out.  It 
makes  one  feel  so  aimless.  One  has  too  much  time  to 
think." 

He  laughed  at  her,  pleasantly  but  derisively. 

"  Time  to  think !  "  he  repeated.  "  Why,  I  have  never 
teen  you  serious  for  five  minutes  in  your  life,  except 
•when  you've  been  adding  up  Louise's  housekeeping- 
books  ! " 

She  threw  her  cigarette  into  the  grate,  swung  round 
toward  him,  and  looked  steadily  into  his  face. 

"  Haven't  you?  "  she  said.  "  I  can  be.  I  often  am. 
It  isn't  my  correct  pose,  though.  People  don't  like  me 
serious.  If  they  take  me  out  or  entertain  me,  they 
think  they  are  being  cheated  if  I  am  not  continually 
gay.  You  see  what  it  is  to  have  a  reputation  for  being 
amusing !  Louise  keeps  me  by  her  side  to  talk  nonsense 
to  her,  to  keep  her  from  being  depressed.  Men  take 
me  out  because  I  am  bright,  because  I  save  them  the 
trouble  of  talking,  and  they  don't  feel  quite  so  stupid 
with  me  as  with  another  woman.  My  young  man  at 
Bath  wants  to  marry  me  for  the  same  reason.  He 
thinks  it  would  be  so  pleasant  to  have  me  always  at  hand 
to  chatter  nonsense.  That  is  why  you  like  me,  too. 
You  have  been  pitched  into  a  strange  world.  You  are 
not  really  in  touch  with  it.  You  like  to  be  with  some 
one  who  will  talk  nonsense  and  take  you  a  little  way 
out  of  it.  I  am  just  a  little  fool,  you  see,  a  harmless 


282  THE  HILLMAN 

little  creature  in  cap  and  bells  whom  every  one  amuses 
himself  with." 

John  stared  at  her  for  a  moment,  only  half  under- 
standing. 

"  Why,  little  girl,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  believe  you're 
in  earnest  1 " 

"  I  am  in  deadly  earnest,"  she  assured  him,  her  voice 
breaking  a  little.  "  Don't  take  any  notice  of  me.  I 
have  had  a  wretched  week,  and  it's  a  rotten  world, 
anyway." 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  the  waiter  entered 
with  the  cocktails. 

"  Come,"  John  said,  as  he  took  one  from  the  tray, 
"  I  will  tell  you  some  news  that  will  give  you  something 
to  think  about.  I  hope  that  you  will  be  glad  —  I  feel 
sure  that  you  will.  I  want  you  to  be  the  first  to  drink 
our  healths  —  Louise's  and  mine !  " 

The  glass  slipped  through  her  fingers  and  fell  upon 
the  carpet.  She  never  uttered  even  an  exclamation. 
John  was  upon  his  knees,  picking  up  the  broken  glass. 

"  My  fault,"  he  insisted.  "  I  am  so  sorry,  Sophy. 
I  am  afraid  some  of  the  stuff  has  gone  on  your  frock. 
Looks  as  if  you'll  have  to  take  me  out  shopping.  I'll 
ring  for  another  cocktail." 

He  rose  to  his  feet  and  stepped  toward  the  bell. 
Then  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  as  yet  she  had 
not  spoken.  He  turned  quickly  around. 

"  Sophy,"  he  exclaimed,  "  what  is  the  matter  ? 
Aren't  you  going  to  congratulate  me?  " 

She  was  sitting  bolt  upright  upon  the  couch,  her 
fingers  buried  in  the  cushions,  her  eyes  closed.  He 
moved  quickly  across  toward  her. 

"J.  say,  Sophy,  what's  wrong?"  he  asked  hastily. 
"Aren't  you  well?" 


THE  HILLMAN  283 

She  waved  him  away. 

"  Don't  touch  me,"  she  begged.  "  I  went  without  my 
lunch  —  nearly  missed  the  train,  as  it  was.  I  was  feel- 
ing a  little  queer  when  I  came,  and  dropping  that  glass 
gave  me  a  shock.  Let  me  drink  yours,  may  I  ?  " 

He  handed  it  to  her,  and  she  drained  its  contents. 
Then  she  smiled  up  at  him  weakly. 

"  What  a  shame  1 "  she  said.  "  Just  as  you  were 
telling  me  your  wonderful  news !  I  can  scarcely  believe 
it  —  you  and  Louise ! " 

John  sat  down  beside  her. 

"  Louise  does  not  want  it  talked  about  for  a  day  or 
two,"  he  observed.  "  We  have  not  made  any  plans 

yet." 

"  Is  Louise  going  to  remain  upon  the  stage?  " 

"  Probably,  if  she  wishes  it,"  he  replied ;  **  but  I 
want  to  travel  first  for  a  year  or  so,  before  we  settle 
definitely  upon  anything.  I  did  not  think  that  you 
would  be  so  much  surprised,  Sophy." 

"  Perhaps  I  am  not  really,"  she  admitted.  "  One 
thinks  of  a  thing  as  being  possible,  for  a  long  time,  and 
when  it  actually  comes  —  well,  it  takes  you  off  your 
feet  just  the  same.  You  know,"  she  added  slowly, 
"  there  are  no  two  people  in  this  world  so  far  apart  in 
their  ways  as  you  and  Louise." 

"  That  is  true  from  one  point  of  view,"  he  confessed. 
"  From  another,  I  think  that  there  are  no  two  people 
so  close  together.  Of  course,  it  seems  wonderful  to  me, 
and  I  suppose  it  does  to  you,  Sophy,  that  she  should 
care  for  a  man  of  my  type.  She  is  so  brilliant  and 
so  talented,  such  a  woman  of  this  latter-day  world,  the 
world  of  which  I  am  about  as  ignorant  as  a  man  can  be. 
Perhaps,  after  all,  that  is  the  real  explanation  of  it. 
Each  of  us  represents  things  new  to  the  other." 


284  THE  HILLMAN 

"  Did  you  say  that  no  one  has  been  told  yet  —  no 
one  at  all?" 

"  No  one  except  Stephen,"  John  assented.  "  That 
is  why  I  went  up  to  Cumberland,  to  tell  him." 

"  You  have  not  told  the  prince  ? "  Sophy  asked, 
dropping  her  voice  a  little.  "  Louise  has  not  told 
him?" 

"Not  that  I  know  of.  Why  do  you  ask?"  John 
inquired,  looking  into  Sophy's  face. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  answered.  "  It  just  occurred  to 
me.  He  and  Louise  have  known  each  other  for  such 
a  long  time,  and  I  wondered  what  he  might  have  to  say 
about  it." 

John  laid  his  hands  upon  the  poisonous  thoughts  that 
had  stolen  once  more  into  his  blood,  and  told  himself 
that  he  had  strangled  them.  He  swept  them  away  and 
glanced  at  his  watch. 

"  Let's  have  some  dinner  before  I  change,  down  in 
the  grill-room  —  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  time,  say.  I 
don't  want  to  be  at  the  theater  before  the  second  act." 

Sophy  hesitated.  There  was  a  hard  feeling  in  her 
throat,  a  burning  at  the  back  of  her  eyes.  She  was 
passionately  anxious  to  be  alone,  yet  she  could  not  bring 
herself  to  refuse.  She  could  not  deny  herself,  or  tear 
herself  at  once  away  from  the  close  companionship  which 
seemed,  somehow  or  other,  to  have  crept  up  between 
herself  and  John,  and  to  have  become  the  one  thing  that 
counted  in  life. 

"  I'd  love  to,"  she  said,  **  but  remember  I've  been 
traveling.  Look  at  me!  I  must  either  go  home,  or 
you  must  let  me  go  into  your  room  — " 

"  Make  yourself  at  home,"  John  invited.  "  I  have 
three  letters  to  write,  and  some  telephone  messages  to 
answer." 


THE  HILLMAN  285 

Sophy  lit  another  cigarette  and  strolled  jauntily 
through  his  suite  of  rooms.  When  she  was  quite  sure 
that  she  was  alone,  however,  she  closed  the  door  behind 
her,  dropped  her  cigarette,  and  staggered  to  the  window. 
She  stood  there,  gazing  down  into  an  alleyway  six 
stories  below,  where  the  people  passing  back  and  forth 
looked  like  dwarf  creatures. 

One  little  movement  forward!  No  one  could  have 
been  meant  to  bear  pain  like  this.  She  set  her  teeth. 

"  It  would  be  so  soon  over !  " 

Then  she  suddenly  found  that  she  could  see  nothing ; 
the  people  below  were  blurred  images.  A  rush  of  relief 
had  come  to  her.  She  sank  into  the  nearest  chair  and 
sobbed. 


XXXIII 

The  reception  in  honor  of  the  little  company  of 
French  tragedians,  at  which  almost  the  whole  of  the 
English  stage  and  a  sprinkling  of  society  people  were 
present,  was  a  complete  success.  Louise  made  a  charm- 
ing hostess,  and  Sir  Edward  more  than  ever  justified 
his  reputation  for  saying  the  right  thing  to  the  right 
person  at  the  right  moment.  The  rooms  were  crowded 
with  throngs  of  distinguished  people,  who  all  seemed  to 
have  plenty  to  say  to  one  another. 

The  only  person,  perhaps,  who  found  himself  curi- 
ously ill  at  ease  was  John.  He  heard  nothing  but 
French  on  all  sides  of  him  —  a  language  which  he  read 
with  some  facility,  but  which  he  spoke  like  a  schoolboy. 
He  had  been  wandering  about  for  more  than  an  hour 
before  Louise  discovered  him.  She  at  once  left  her 
place  and  crossed  the  room  to  where  he  was  standing  by 
the  wall. 

"  Cheer  up ! "  she  begged,  with  a  delightful  smile. 
"  I  am  afraid  that  you  are  being  bored  to  death.  Will 
you  not  come  and  be  presented  to  our  guests  ?  " 

"  For  goodness'  sake,  no  !  "  John  implored.  "  I  have 
never  seen  one  of  them  act,  and  my  French  is  appalling. 
I  am  all  right,  dear.  It's  quite  enough  pleasure  to  see 
you  looking  so  beautiful,  and  to  think  that  I  am  going 
to  be  allowed  to  drive  you  home  afterward." 

Louise  looked  into  a  neighboring  mirror,  and  gazed 
critically  at  her  own  reflected  image.  The  lines  of  her 


THE  HILLMAN  287 

figure,  fine  and  subtle,  seemed  traced  by  the  finger  of 
some  great  sculptor  underneath  her  faultlessly  made 
white-satin  gown.  She  studied  her  white  neck  and 
shoulders  and  her  perfectly  shaped  head,  seeking  every- 
where for  some  detail  with  which  an  impartial  critic 
might  find  fault. 

She  had  a  curious  feeling  that  at  that  precise  mo- 
ment she  had  reached  the  zenith  of  her  power  and  her 
charm.  Her  audience  at  the  theater  had  been  wonder- 
fully sympathetic,  had  responded  with  rare  appreciation 
to  every  turn  of  her  voice,  to  every  movement  and 
gesture.  The  compliments,  too,  which  she  had  been 
receiving  from  the  crowds  who  had  bent  over  her  fingers 
that  night  had  been  no  idle  words.  Many  distinguished 
men  had  looked  at  her  with  a  light  in  their  eyes  which 
women  understand  so  well  —  a  light  questioning  yet 
respectful,  which  provokes  yet  begs  for  something  in  the 
way  of  response. 

She  was  conscious,  acutely  conscious,  of  the  atmos- 
phere she  had  created  around  her.  She  was  glorying 
in  the  subtle  outward  signs  of  it.  She  was  in  love  with 
herself;  in  love,  too,  with  this  delightful  new  feeling 
of  loving.  It  would  have  given  her  more  joy  than 
anything  else  in  the  world,  in  that  moment  of  her  tri- 
umph, to  have  passed  her  arm  through  John's,  to  have 
led  him  up  to  them  all,  and  to  have  said: 

"  After  all,  you  see,  I  am  a  very  simple  sort  of  woman. 
I  have  done  just  the  sort  of  simple  thing  that  other 
women  do,  and  I  am  glad  of  it  —  very  glad  and  very 
happy ! " 

Her  lips  moved  to  the  music  of  her  thoughts.  John 
leaned  toward  her. 

"  Did  you  say  anything?  "  he  asked. 

"  You  dear  stupid,  of  course  I  did  not !     Or  if  I  did, 


288  THE  HILLMAN 

it  was  just  one  of  those  little  whispers  to  oneself  which 
mean  nothing,  yet  which  count  for  so  much.  Can  I 
not  do  anything  to  make  you  enjoy  yourself  more?  I 
shall  have  to  go  back  to  my  guests  now.  We  are  ex- 
pecting a  royal  personage,  and  those  two  dears  who 
keep  so  close  to  my  side  do  not  speak  a  word  of 
English." 

"  Please  go  back,  dear,"  John  begged  promptly.  "  It 
was  nice  of  you  to  come  at  all.  And  here's  Sophy  at 
last,  thank  goodness  I  Now  I  am  all  right." 

She  laid  her  fingers  upon  his  arm. 

"  You  must  take  me  back  to  my  place,"  she  said. 
**  Then  you  can  go  and  talk  nonsense  to  Sophy.  I 
won't  even  ask  you  what  she  said  when  you  told  her  the 
news.  I  suppose  you  did  tell  her?  " 

"  Of  course !  " 

She  glanced  at  him  swiftly.  His  reply  had  sounded  a 
little  lame;  but  they  were  back  in  the  crowd  now,  and 
she  dismissed  him  with  a  little  nod.  He  made  his  way 
quickly  to  the  spot  where  he  had  seen  Sophy.  To  his 
disappointment,  she  had  disappeared.  Graillot,  how- 
ever, came  up  and  seized  him  by  the  arm. 

"Still  playing  the  moth,  my  young  friend?"  he 
exclaimed.  "  Aren't  the  wings  sufficiently  burned 
yet?" 

"  I  am  afraid  it's  become  a  permanent  role,"  John 
replied,  as  the  two  men  shook  hands.     "  Where  have  you 
been  all  these  weeks,  and  why  haven't  you  been  to  see  , 
me?" 

"  Paris,  my  dear  young  friend  —  Paris  and  life ! 
Now  I  am  back  again  —  I  am  not  sure  that  I  know  why. 
I  came  over  with  these  French  people,  to  see  them  start 
their  theater.  Forgive  me,  I  have  not  paid  my  respects 
to  our  hostess.  We  shall  meet  again  presently." 


THE  HILLMAN  289 

He  strolled  off,  and  a  few  minutes  later  John  found 
Sophy. 

"  How  late  you  are !  "  he  grumbled. 

"  I  couldn't  help  it,"  she  answered.  "  This  is  the 
only  evening  dress  I  possess  at  present,  and  I  had  ta 
mend  it  before  it  was  decent  to  come  out  in.  Why  are 
you  wandering  about  alone?  Hasn't  Louise  been  kind 
to  you?  " 

"  She  has  been  charming,"  John  declared  promptly, 
"  but  she  is  surrounded  with  all  sorts  of  people  I  don't 
know.  I  can't  help  her.  For  one  thing,  my  French 
is  absurd.  Then  they  are  all  talking  about  things  which 
I  don't  understand  in  the  least." 

Sophy  remained  silent  for  a  moment.  Then  she  took 
John's  arm  and  led  him  to  the  buffet. 

"Give  me  an  ice  and  a  cigarette,  will  you,  please? 
You  are  a  dear,  impractical  person,  but  you  are  as 
much  out  of  this  world  as  a  human  being  well  could  be !  " 

John  waited  upon  her  without  any  further  remark. 
The  Prince  of  Seyre,  passing  through,  bowed  to  them. 
John  looked  after  his  retreating  figure.  An  irresistible 
impulse  seized  him. 

"  Sophy,"  he  asked,  sitting  down  by  her  side,  "  tell 
me,  why  have  the  prince  and  Louise  always  been  such 
great  friends?  " 

Sophy  looked  steadfastly  at  her  ice. 

"  I  suppose  because  the  prince  is  a  very  clever  and 
cultivated  person,"  she  said.  "  He  has  been  of  great 
assistance  to  Louise  several  times.  It  was  he  who 
financed  Miles  Faraday  when  he  put  on  this  play  of 
Graillot's.  Graillot  hasn't  a  penny,  you  know,  and 
poor  Miles  was  almost  broke  after  three  failures." 

"  That  was  just  an  investment,"  John  remarked 
irritably.  "  He  will  get  his  money  back  again." 


ago  THE  HILLMAN 

"  Of  course,"  Sophy  agreed.  "  I  think  the  prince 
generally  manages  to  get  value  for  what  he  does  in 
life." 

"  You  don't  think  Louise  ever  thought  of  caring  for 
him,  do  you  ?  "  John  persisted. 

Sophy  paused  until  she  had  lit  a  cigarette.  The 
expression  in  her  face,  when  she  looked  up  at  John, 
irritated  him  vaguely.  It  was  as  if  she  were  talking  to 
a  child. 

"  I  think,"  she  said,  "  you  had  better  ask  Louise  that 
question  yourself,  don't  you?  " 

He  asked  it  an  hour  or  so  later,  when  at  last  the 
party  of  guests  had  taken  their  leave,  and,  somewhat  to 
the  well-bred  surprise  of  the  one  or  two  friends  who 
lingered,  Louise  had  beckoned  to  John  to  take  her  out 
to  her  car.  Her  hand  had  sought  his  at  once,  her  head 
rested  a  little  wearily  but  very  contentedly  upon  his 
shoulder. 

"  Louise  dear,"  he  began,  '*  I  asked  Sophy  a  question 
to-night  which  I  ought  to  have  asked  you.  Quite  prop- 
erly, she  told  me  so." 

"  Nice  little  soul,  Sophy ! "  Louise  murmured. 
"What  was  it,  John?" 

"  Once  or  twice  I  have  wondered,"  he  went  on, 
**  whether  you  have  ever  cared  in  any  sort  of  way,  or 
come  near  to  caring,  for  the  Prince  of  Scyre?  " 

For  a  moment  she  made  no  movement.  Then  she 
turned  her  head  and  looked  at  him.  The  sleepy  content 
had  gone  from  her  eyes. 

"Why  do  you  ask?" 

"  Isn't  it  quite  a  natural  question  from  a  jealous  man 
who  believes  that  every  one  who  sees  you  must  be  in 
love  with  you?  You  have  seen  a  great  deal  of  the 


THE  HILLMAN  291 

prince,  haven't  you,  in  the  last  few  years?  He  under- 
stands your  art.  There  are  many  things  that  you  and 
he  have  in  common." 

Louise  was  looking  out  of  the  window  at  the  thin 
stream  of  people  still  passing  along  Piccadilly.  She 
seemed  suddenly  to  have  become  only  the  shadow  of  her 
former  brilliant  self. 

"  I  think  that  once  —  perhaps  twice,"  she  confessed, 
"  I  came  very  near  to  caring  for  him." 

"And  now?" 

"  And  now,"  she  repeated,  suddenly  gripping  John's 
hands,  "  I  tell  you  that  I  am  very  much  nearer  hating 
him.  So  much  for  the  prince !  In  ten  minutes  we  shall 
be  at  home,  and  you  are  such  a  dear  stupid  about  com- 
ing in.  You  must  try  to  say  all  the  nice  things  in  the 
world  to  me  quickly  —  in  ten  minutes  !  " 

"  How  shall  I  begin?  "  he  whispered. 

She  leaned  once  more  toward  him. 

"  You  don't  need  any  hints,"  she  murmured. 
"  You're  really  quite  good  at  it !  " 


XXXIV 

The  ten  minutes  passed  very  much  too  quickly.  She 
was  gone,  and  John,  thrilled  though  he  was  through  all 
his  senses  by  the  almost  passionate  fervor  of  her  leave- 
taking,  found  himself  once  more  confronted  by  that 
little  black  demon.  He  sat  up  in  the  car,  which  bore 
him  quickly  back  toward  his  rooms;  and  although  the 
sense  of  her  presence,  the  delicate  perfume,  the  empty 
place  by  his  side,  even  a  fallen  flower  from,  her  gown, 
"were  still  there,  the  unrest  seemed  sharper. 

There  was  something  about  all  of  them,  all  these 
people  whom  he  knew  to  be  his  friends,  which  seemed  to 
him  to  savor  of  a  conspiracy.  One  by  one  they  flitted 
through  his  brain  —  Graillot's  covert  warning;  Sophy's 
plaintive,  almost  fearful  doubts ;  the  prince's  subtle  yet 
cynical  silence ;  and  behind  it  all,  Stephen's  brutal  and 
outspoken  words.  There  was  nothing  that  could  be 
put  into  definite  shape  —  just  the  ghost  of  torturing, 
impossible  thoughts.  John  told  himself  that  it  must 
be  ended.  Even  though  the  words  should  blister  his 
tongue  with  shame,  they  must  be  spoken. 

A  moment  later  he  hated  himself  for  the  thought. 
He  set  his  teeth,  filled  his  thought  with  the  glory  of  her 
presence,  and  crushed  those  demoniacal  suggestions  to 
the  back  of  his  brain.  He  was  in  no  humor  to  go  home, 
however.  Changing  the  order  he  had  first  given  to  the 
chauffeur,  he  was  driven  instead  to  a  small  Bohemian 
club  which  he  had  joined  at  Graillot's  instigation.  He 


THE  HILLMAN  293 

had  a  vague  hope  that  he  might  find  the  great  dramatist 
there.  There  were  no  signs  of  him,  however,  in  the 
smoking  room,  or  any  one  else  whom  John  knew. 

He  threw  himself  into  an  easy  chair  and  ordered  a 
whisky-and-soda.  Two  men  close  at  hand  were  writing 
at  desks;  others  were  lounging  about,  discussing  the 
evening's  reception.  One  man,  sitting  upon  the  table, 
a  recognized  authority,  was  treating  the  company  to  a 
fluent  dissertation  upon  modern  actresses,  winding  up 
by  contrasting  Louise  Maurel's  style  with  that  of  her 
chief  French  rival.  John  found  himself  listening  with 
pleased  interest.  The  man's  opinion  was  certainly  not 
unfavorable  to  Louise. 

"  It  is  only  in  the  finer  shades  of  emotionalism,"  the 
critic  declared,  "  that  these  French  actresses  get  at  us  a 
little  more  completely  even  than  Louise  Maurel.  Do 
you  know  the  reason  ?  I'll  tell  you.  It  is  because  they 
live  the  life.  They  have  a  dozen  new  emotions  in  a  sea- 
son. They  make  a  cult  of  feeling.  They  use  their 
brains  to  dissect  their  passions.  They  cut  their  own 
life  into  small  pieces  and  give  us  the  result  without  con- 
cealment. That  is  where  they  scor^,  if  anywhere. 
This  Mme.  Latrobe,  who  opens  over  here  to-morrow 
night,  is  living  at  the  present  moment  with  Jean  Tour- 
bet.  She  had  an  affair  with  that  Italian  poet  in  the 
summer,  so  they  tell  me.  She  was  certainly  in  Madrid  in 
October  with  Bretoldi,  the  sculptor.  These  men  are  all 
great  artists.  Think  what  she  must  have  learned  from 
associating  with  them !  Now  Louise  Maurel,  so  far  as 
we  know,  has  never  had  but  one  lover,  the  Prince  of 
Seyre,  and  has  been  faithful  to  him  all  the  time." 

It  was  out  at  last .'  John  had  heard  it  spoken  in  plain 
words.  The  black  demon  upon  which  his  hand  had  lain 
so  heavily,  was  alive  now,  without  a  doubt,  jeering  at 


294  THE  HILLMAN 

him,  mocking  at  him  —  alive  and  self-assertive  in  the 
sober  words  of  the  elderly,  well-bred  man  who  lounged 
upon  the  table. 

For  a  moment  or  two  John  was  stunned.  A  wild 
impulse  assailed  him  to  leap  up  and  confront  them  all, 
to  choke  the  lie  back  down  the  throat  of  the  man  who 
had  uttered  it.  Every  nerve  in  his  body  was  tingling 
with  the  desire  for  action.  The  stupor  of  his  senses 
alone  kept  him  motionless,  and  a  strange,  incompre- 
hensible clarity  of  thought.  He  realized  exactly  how 
things  were.  This  man  had  not  spoken  idly,  or  as  a 
scandalmonger.  He  had  spoken  what  he  had  accepted 
as  a  fact,  what  other  people  believed. 

John  rose  to  his  feet  and  made  his  way  toward  the 
door.  His  face  showed  little  sign  of  disturbance.  He 
even  nodded  to  some  men  whom  he  knew  slightly.  As 
he  passed  down  the  stairs,  he  met  Graillot.  Then  once 
more  the  self-control  became  in  danger.  He  seized  the 
Frenchman  savagely  by  the  arm. 

"  Come  this  way,"  he  said,  leading  him  toward  the 
card-room.  "  Come  in  here !  I  want  to  speak  to 
you." 

He  locked  the  door  —  a  most  unheard-of  and  irregu- 
lar proceeding.  Graillot  felt  the  coming  of  the  storm. 

"Well!"  he  exclaimed  grimly.  "Trouble  already, 
eh?  I  see  it  in  your  face,  young  man.  Out  with  it! " 

John  —  who  had  won  a  hard  match  at  rackets  a  few 
days  before  against  a  more  experienced  opponent  simply 
because  of  his  perfect  condition  —  was  breathing  hard. 
There  was  a  dull  patch  of  color  in  his  cheek,  drops  of 
sweat  stood  upon  his  forehead.  He  controlled  his  voice 
with  difficulty.  Its  tone  was  sharp  and  unfamiliar. 

"  I  was  sitting  in  the  smoking  room  there,  a  few 
n^ments  ago,"  he  began,  jerking  his  head  toward  the 


THE  HILLMAN  295 

door.  "  There  were  some  men  talking  —  decent  fel- 
lows, not  dirty  scandalmongers.  They  spoke  of  Louise 
Maurel." 

Graillot  nodded  gravely.  He  knew  very  well  what 
was  coming. 

"Well?" 

"  They  spoke,  also,  of  the  Prince  of  Seyre." 

"Well?" 

John  felt  his  throat  suddenly  dry.  The  words  he 
would  have  spoken  choked  him.  He  banged  his  fist 
upon  the  table  by  the  side  of  which  they  were  standing. 

"  Look  here,  Graillot,"  he  cried,  almost  piteously, 
'*  you  know  it  is  not  true,  not  likely  to  be  true !  Can't 
you  say  so?  " 

"  Stop,  my  young  friend ! "  the  Frenchman  inter- 
rupted. "  I  know  nothing.  It  is  a  habit  of  mine  to 
know  nothing  when  people  make  suggestions  of  that 
sort.  I  make  no  inquiries.  I  accept  life  and  people  as 
I  find  them." 

"  But  you  don't  believe  that  such  a  thing  could  be 
possible?  " 

"Why  not?  "  Graillot  asked  steadily. 

John  could  do  no  more  than  mumble  a  repetition  of 
his  words.  The  world  was  falling  away  from  him.  He 
was  dimly  conscious  that  one  of  the  engravings  upon 
the  wall  opposite  was  badly  hung.  For  the  rest,  Grail- 
lot's  face,  stern,  yet  pitying,  seemed  to  loom  like  the 
features  of  a  giant,  eclipsing  everything  else. 

"  I  will  not  discuss  this  matter  with  you,  my  friend. 
I  will  only  ask  you  to  remember  the  views  of  the  world 
in  which  we  live.  Louise  Maurel  is  an  artist,  a  great 
artist.  If  there  has  been  such  an  affair  as  you  suggest, 
between  her  and  any  man,  if  it  were  something  which 
appealed  to  her  affections,  it  is  my  opinion  that  she 


296  THE  HILLMAN 

would  not  hesitate.  You  seem  to  think  it  an  outrageous 
thing  that  the  prince  should  have  been  her  lover.  To 
be  perfectly  frank,  I  do  not.  I  should  be  very  much 
more  surprised  at  her  marriage." 

John  made  his  escape  somehow.  He  remembered 
opening  the  door,  but  he  had  no  recollection  of  reaching 
the  street.  A  few  minutes  later,  however,  he  found 
himself  striding  down  Piccadilly  toward  Hyde  Park 
Corner. 

The  night  was  warm,  and  there  were  still  plenty  of 
people  about.  A  woman  touched  his  arm;  her  hack- 
neyed greeting  filled  him  with  inexpressible  horror.  He 
stared  at  her,  barely  conscious  of  what  he  was  doing, 
filled  with  an  indescribable  sickness  of  heart. 

"  You  look  about  done  up,"  she  said  in  friendly  fash- 
ion. "  Come  round  to  my  flat  and  have  a  drink.  You 
needn't  stay  if  you  don't  want  to." 

He  muttered  something  and  passed  on.  A  moment 
or  two  later,  however,  he  retraced  his  steps.  Out  of 
the  horror  of  his  thought  had  come  an  irresistible  im- 
pulse. He  slipped  some  gold  into  her  hand. 

"  Please  take  this  and  go  home,"  he  enjoined.  "  Go 
home  at  once !  Get  out  of  the  streets  and  hide  your- 
self." 

She  stared  at  him  and  at  the  money. 

"Why,  I've  only  just  come  out,"  she  protested. 
"  All  the  same,  I'm  dead  tired.  I'll  go.  Walk  with 
me,  won't  you?  You  look  as  if  you  wanted  looking 
after." 

"  I'm  all  right,"  he  answered.     "  You  go  home." 

She  slipped  the  money  carefully  into  her  purse,  and 
hailed  a  taxi. 

"  You  shall  have  your  own  way,"  she  declared. 
"  Can't  I  drop  you  anywhere?  " 


THE  HILLMAN  297 

He  raised  his  hat,  and,  once  more  swinging  around, 
passed  on  his  way.  Presently  he  found  himself  in  the 
street  where  Louise  lived.  He  looked  at  his  watch  — 
it  was  twenty  minutes  to  three  o'clock. 

The  house  was  in  solemn  darkness.  He  stood  and 
looked  up  at  it.  There  was  no  sign  of  a  light,  not  even 
from  the  top  windows.  Its  silence  seemed  to  him  more 
than  the  silence  of  sleep.  He  found  himself  wonder- 
ing whether  it  was  really  inhabited,  whether  there  were 
really  human  souls  in  this  quiet  corner,  waiting  peace- 
fully for  the  dawn,  heedless  of  the  torment  which  was 
tearing  his  soul  to  pieces.  Perhaps,  behind  that  drawn 
blind,  Louise  herself  was  awake.  Perhaps  she  was 
thinking,  looking  back  into  the  past,  wondering  about 
the  future.  He  took  a  step  toward  the  gate. 

"  Are  you  going  in  there,  sir?  " 

He  turned  quickly  around.  A  policeman  had  flashed 
a  lantern  upon  him.  John  suddenly  became  intensely 
matter-of-fact. 

"  No,"  he  replied.  "  It  is  too  late,  I  am  afraid.  I 
see  that  they  have  all  gone  to  bed.  Any  chance  of  a 
taxi  about  here?" 

"  Most  likely  you'll  find  one  at  the  corner,"  the 
policeman  pointed  out.  "  There's  a  rank  there,  and 
one  or  two  of  them  generally  stay  late.  Very  much 
obliged,  sir." 

John  had  slipped  a  coin  into  the  man's  hand.  Then 
he  walked  deliberately  away.  He  found  a  taxicab  and 
was  driven  toward  the  Milan.  He  let  down  both  the 
windows  and  leaned  out.  He  was  conscious  of  a  wild 
desire  to  keep  away  from  his  rooms  —  to  spend  the 
night  anywhere,  anyhow,  sooner  than  go  back  to  the 
little  apartment  where  Louise  had  sat  with  him  only  a 
few  hours  ago,  and  had  given  herself  into  his  arms. 


298  THE  HILLMAN 

Every  pulse  in  his  body  was  tingling.  He  was  fiercely 
awake,  eager  for  motion,  action,  excitement  of  any  sort. 
Suddenly  he  remembered  the  night-club  to  which 
he  had  been  introduced  by  Sophy  on  the  first  night  of 
his  arrival  in  London.  The  address,  too,  was  there 
quite  clearly  in  his  disordered  brain.  He  leaned  out 
of  the  cab  and  repeated  it  to  the  driver. 


XXXV 

The  little  place  was  unexpectedly  crowded  when  John 
entered,  after  having  handed  his  hat  and  coat  to  a 
vestiaire.  A  large  supper-party  was  going  on  at  the 
further  end,  and  the  dancing  space  was  smaller  than 
usual.  The  maitre  d'hotel  was  escorting  John  to  a 
small  table  in  a  distant  corner,  which  had  just  been 
vacated,  when  the  latter  heard  his  name  suddenly  called 
by  a  familiar  voice.  Sophy,  who  had  been  dancing, 
abandoned  her  partner  precipitately  and  came  hurry- 
ing up  to  John  with  outstretched  hands. 

"  John ! "  she  exclaimed.  "  You,  of  all  people  in  the 
world!  What  do  you  mean  by  coming  here  alone  at 
this  time  of  night?  Fancy  not  telling  me!  Is  any- 
thing the  matter  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  he  replied.  "  I  really  don't  exactly 
know  why  I  am  here.  I  simply  didn't  want  to  go  to 
bed." 

She  looked  at  him  closely.  It  was  clear  that  she  was 
a  little  puzzled  at  his  appearance. 

"  If  it  were  not  you,  John,"  she  declared,  "  I  should 
say  that  you  had  been  having  more  to  drink  than  was 
good  for  you  !  " 

"  Then  you  would  be  very  wrong,"  John  assured  her, 
"because  I  haven't  had  anything  at  all.  I  have  come 
here  to  get  something.  Can't  you  come  and  sit  with 
me?" 

"  Of  course ! "  she  assented  eagerly.     "  The  prince 


300  THE  HILLMAN 

is  giving  a  supper-party  at  the  other  end  of  the  room 
there.  We  all  came  on  together  from  the  reception. 
Let  us  get  away  to  your  corner  quickly,  or  they  will 
see  you  and  make  you  go  and  join  them.  I  would  much 
rather  have  you  to  myself.  The  people  here  seem  so 
stupid  to-night ! " 

John  stood  still,  and  made  no  movement  toward  the 
table  which  the  mdltre  d'hotel  was  smilingly  preparing 
for  them. 

"  Where  is  the  prince?  "  he  asked. 

Sophy,  struck  by  something  in  his  voice,  swung 
around  and  looked  at  him.  Then  she  thrust  both  her 
arms  through  his,  clasped  her  two  hands  together,  and 
led  him  firmly  away.  A  glimmering  of  the  truth  was 
beginning  to  dawn  upon  her. 

"  Tell  me  where  you  have  been  since  you  left  the 
reception,"  she  insisted,  when  at  last  they  were  seated 
together. 

"  Wait  till  I  have  ordered  some  wine,"  he  said. 

A  waiter  served  them  with  champagne.  When  John's 
glass  was  filled,  he  drained  its  contents.  Sophy  watched 
him  with  surprise.  She  came  a  little  closer  to  him. 

"  John,"  she  whispered,  "  you  must  tell  me  —  do 
you  hear?  You  must  tell  me  everything!  Did  you 
take  Louise  home?  " 

"  Yes." 

"What  happened,  then?  You  didn't  quarrel  with 
her?" 

"  Nothing  at  all  happened,"  he  assured  her.  "  We 
parted  the  best  of  friends.  It  wasn't  that." 

"  Then  what  ?  Remember  that  I  am  your  friend, 
John  dear.  Tell  me  everything." 

He  poured  himself  more  wine  and  drank  it. 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  he  assented.     "  I  went  to  a  little 


THE  HILLMAN  301 

club  I  belong  to  on  the  Adelphi  Terrace.  I  sat  down  in: 
the  smoking  room.  There  was  no  one  there  I  knew. 
Some  men  were  talking.  They  had  been  to  the  recep- 
tion to-night.  They  were  comparing  French  actresses 
and  English.  They  spoke  first  of  the  French  woman, 
Latrobe,  and  her  lovers;  then  of  Louise.  They  spoke 
quite  calmly,  like  men  discussing  history.  They  com- 
pared the  two  actresses,  they  compared  their  lives. 
Latrobe,  they  said,  had  lovers  by  the  score  —  Louise 
only  one." 

Sophy's  hand  stole  into  his.  She  was  watching  the 
twisting  of  his  features.  She  understood  so  well  the 
excitement  underneath. 

"  I  think  I  can  guess,"  she  whispered.  "  Don't  hurt 
yourself  telling  me.  Something  was  said  about  the 
prince ! " 

His  eyes  blazed  down  upon  her. 

"You,  too?"  he  muttered.  "Does  the  whole  world 
know  of  it  and  speak  as  if  it  did  not  matter?  Sophy, 
is  it  true?  Speak  out !  Don't  be  afraid  of  hurting  me. 
You  call  yourself  my  friend.  I've  been  down,  looking 
at  the  outside  of  her  house.  I  dared  not  go  in. 
There's  a  fire  burning  in  my  soul!  Tell  me  if  it  is 
true!" 

"  You  must  not  ask  me  that  question,  John,"  she 
begged.  "  How  should  I  know  ?  Besides,  these  things 
are  so  different  in  our  world,  the  world  you  haven't 
found  out  much  about  yet.  Supposing  it  were  true, 
John,"  she  went  on,  "  remember  that  it  was  before  you 
knew  her.  Supposing  it  should  be  true,  remember  this 
—  your  idea  of  life  is  too  absurd.  Is  one  creed  made  to 
fit  human  beings  who  may  differ  in  a  million  different 
ways?  A  woman  may  be  as  good  as  any  ever  born  into 
the  world,  and  yet  take  just  a  little  love  into  her  life,  if 


302  THE  HILLMAN 

she  be  true  and  faithful  in  doing  it.  I  don't  believe 
there  is  a  dearer  or  sweeter  woman  breathing  than 
Louise,  but  one  must  have  love.  Don't  I  know  it?  A 
man  may  be  strong  enough  to  live  without  it,  but  a 
woman  —  never !  " 

The  skirts  of  the  women  brushed  their  table  as  they 
danced,  the  rhythm  of  the  music  rose  and  fell  above  the 
murmur  of  laughter  and  conversation.  John  looked 
around  the  room,  and  a  sort  of  despair  crept  in  upon 
him.  It  was  no  good!  He  had  come  to  London  to 
understand;  he  understood  nothing.  He  was  made  of 
the  wrong  fiber.  If  only  he  could  change  himself !  If 
it  were  not  too  late!  If  he  could  make  himself  like 
other  men ! 

He  turned  and  glanced  at  his  companion.  Sophy 
was  looking  very  sweet  and  very  wistful.  The  warm 
touch  of  her  fingers  was  grateful.  Her  sympathy  was 
like  some  welcome  flower  in  a  wilderness.  His  heart 
ached  with  a  new  desire.  If  only  he  could  make  himself 
different !  If  only  he  could  stretch  out  his  hand  for  the 
flowers  which  made  the  lives  of  other  men  so  sweet ! 

"  I  must  not  ask  you  any  more  questions,  Sophy,"  he 
said.  "  You  are  her  friend,  and  you  have  spoken  very 
sweetly.  To-morrow  I  will  go  and  see  her." 

"  And  to-night,  forget  it  all,"  she  pleaded.  "  Wipe 
it  out  of  your  memory.  Louise  and  your  future  belong 
to  to-morrow.  To-night  she  is  not  here,  and  I  am. 
Even  if  you  are  furiously  in  love  with  her,  there  isn't 
any  harm  in  your  being  just  a  little  nice  to  me.  Give 
me  some  champagne ;  and  I  want  some  caviar  sand- 
wiches ! " 

"  I  wonder  why  you  are  so  good  to  me,  Sophy ! "  he 
exclaimed,  as  he  gave  the  order  to  a  waiter.  "  You 
ought  either  to  marry  your  young  man  down  at  Bath, 


THE  HILLMAN  303 

or  to  have  a  sweetheart  of  your  own,  a  companion,  some 
one  quite  different." 

"How  different?" 

"  Some  one  who  cared  for  you  as  you  deserve  to  be 
cared  for,  and  whom  you  cared  for,  too." 

"  I  cannot  take  these  things  as  lightly  as  I  used  to," 
she  answered  a  little  sadly.  "  Something  has  come  over 
me  lately  —  I  don't  know  what  it  is  —  but  I  seem  to 
have  lost  my  taste  for  flirtations.  John,  don't  look  up, 
don't  turn  round!  I  have  been  afraid  of  the  prince  all 
the  evening.  When  you  came  in,  I  fancied  that  you 
had  been  drinking.  When  the  prince  asked  me  some- 
thing about  you,  an  hour  or  so  ago,  I  knew  that  he  had. 
I  saw  him  like  it  once  before,  about  a  year  ago.  Don't 
take  any  notice  of  him !  Don't  talk  to  him,  if  you  can 
help  it!" 

John  was  scarcely  conscious  of  her  words.  A  new 
glow  of  excitement  seemed  to  be  taking  entire  posses- 
sion of  him,  to  be  thrilling  his  blood,  to  be  shining  out 
of  his  eyes.  He  rose  slowly  to  his  feeti  It  was  as  if 
he  were  being  drawn  forward  out  of  himself  to  meet  some 
coming  challenge. 

Toward  their  table  the  prince  was  slowly  making  his 
way,  skilfully  avoiding  the  dancers,  yet  looking  neither 
to  the  right  nor  to  the  left.  His  eyes  were  fastened 
upon  John.  If  he  had  been  drinking,  as  Sophy  sug- 
gested, there  were  few  signs  of  it.  His  walk  was  steady ; 
his  bearing,  as  usual,  deliberate  and  distinguished. 

He  came  to  a  standstill  beside  them.  Sophy's  fingers 
clutched  at  the  tablecloth.  The  prince  looked  from 
one  to  the  other. 

"  You  have  robbed  me  of  a  guest,  Mr.  Strangewey," 
he  remarked ;  "  but  I  bear  you  no  ill-will.  It  is  very 
seldom  that  one  sees  you  in  these  haunts  of  dissipation." 


304  THE  HILLMAN 

"  It  is  a  gala  night  with  me,"  John  replied,  his  tone 
raised  no  more  than  usual,  but  shaking  with  some  new 
quality.  "  Drink  a  glass  of  wine  with  me,  prince,"  he 
invited,  taking  the  bottle  from  the  ice-pail  and  filling  a 
tumbler  upon  the  table.  "  Wish  me  luck,  won't  you  ? 
I  am  engaged  to  be  married !  " 

"  I  wish  you  happiness  with  all  my  heart,"  the  prince 
answered,  holding  his  glass  up.  "  May  I  not  know  the 
name  of  the  lady?  " 

"  No  doubt  you  are  prepared  for  the  news,"  John 
told  him.  "  Miss  Maurel  has  promised  to  become  my 
wife." 

The  prince's  hand  was  as  steady  as  a  rock.  He 
raised  his  glass  to  his  lips. 

"  I  drink  to  you  both  with  the  greatest  pleasure,"  he 
said,  looking  John  full  in  the  face.  "  It  is  a  most  re- 
markable coincidence.  To-night  is  the  anniversary  of 
the  night  when  Louise  Maurel  pledged  herself  to  me  in 
somewhat  different  fashion !  " 

John's  frame  seemed  for  a  moment  to  dilate,  and  fire 
flashed  from  his  eyes. 

"  Will  you  be  good  enough  to  explain  those  words  ?  " 
he  demanded. 

The  prince  bowed.     He  glanced  toward  Sophy. 

"  Since  you  insist,"  he  replied.  "  To-night,  then, 
let  me  tell  you,  is  the  anniversary  of  the  night  when 
Louise  Maurel  consented  to  become  my  mistress ! " 

What  followed  came  like  a  thunder-clap.  The  prince 
reeled  back,  his  hand  to  his  mouth,  blood  dropping  upon 
the  tablecloth  from  his  lips,  where  John  had  struck 
him.  He  made  a  sudden  spring  at  his  assailant. 
Sophy,  shrieking,  leaped  to  her  feet.  Every  one  else 
in  the  place  seemed  paralyzed  with  wonder. 

John  seized  the  prince  by  the  throat,  and  held  him  for 


THE  HILLMAN  305 

a  moment  at  arm's  length.  Then  he  lifted  him  off  his 
feet  as  one  might  lift  a  child  from  the  floor.  Holding 
his  helpless  victim  in  a  merciless  grip,  he  carried  him 
across  the  room  and  deliberately  flung  him  over  the  table 
toward  his  empty  chair. 

There  was  a  crash  of  glass  and  crockery  which  rang 
through  the  momentarily  hushed  room.  The  dancers 
had  stopped  in  their  places,  the  bow  of  the  violinist  lay 
idle  upon  the  strings  of  his  instrument.  The  waiters 
were  all  standing  about  like  graven  images.  Then,  as 
the  prince  fell,  there  was  a  shout,  and  all  was  pande- 
monium. They  rushed  to  where  he  was  lying  motion- 
less, a  ghastly  sight,  across  the  wreck  of  his  flower- 
strewn  supper-table. 

Sophy  held  John  by  the  arm,  clutching  it  hysterically, 
striving  to  drag  him  away.  But  to  John  the  room  was 
empty.  He  stood  there,  a  giant,  motionless  figure,  his 
muscles  still  taut,  his  face  tense,  his  eyes  aflame,  glaring 
down  at  the  prostrate  figure  of  the  man  on  whom  he  had 
wreaked  the  accumulated  fury  of  those  last  days  and 
weeks  of  madness. 


XXXVI 

Toward  nine  o'clock  on  the  following  morning  John 
rose  from  a  fitful  sleep  and  looked  around  him.  Even 
before  he  could  recall  the  events  of  the  preceding  night 
he  felt  that  there  was  a  weight  pressing  upon  his  brain, 
a  miserable  sense  of  emptiness  in  life,  a  dull  feeling  of 
bewilderment.  Although  he  had  no  clear  recollection 
of  getting  there,  he  realized  that  he  was  in  his  own 
sitting  room,  and  that  he  had  been  asleep  upon  the 
couch.  He  saw,  too,  that  it  was  morning,  for  a  ray 
of  sunlight  lay  across  the  carpet. 

As  he  struggled  to  his  feet,  he  saw  with  a  little  shock 
that  he  was  not  alone.  Sophy  Gerard  was  curled  up  in 
his  easy  chair,  still  in  evening  clothes,  her  cloak  drawn 
closely  around  her,  as  if  she  were  cold.  Her  head  had 
fallen  back.  She,  too,  was  asleep.  At  the  sound  of 
his  movement,  however,  she  opened  her  eyes  and  looked 
at  him  for  a  moment  with  a  puzzled  stare.  Then  she 
jumped  to  her  feet. 

"  Why,  we  have  both  been  asleep ! "  she  murmured,  a 
little  weakly. 

At  the  sound  of  her  voice  it  all  came  back  to  him,  a 
tangled,  hideous  nightmare.  He  sat  down  again  upon 
the  couch  and  held  his  head  between  his  hands. 

"  How  did  I  come  here  ?  "  he  asked.  "  I  can't  re- 
member ! " 

She  hesitated.  He  answered  the  unspoken  question 
in  her  eyes. 


THE  HILLMAN  307 

"  I  remember  everything  that  happened  at  the  club," 
he  went  on  slowly.  "  Is  the  prince  dead?  " 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  Of  course  not !  He  was  hurt,  though,  and  there 
was  a  terrible  scene  of  confusion  in  the  room.  The 
people  crowded  around  him,  and  I  managed,  somehow, 
to  drag  you  away.  The  manager  helped  us.  To  tell 
the  truth,  he  was  only  too  anxious  for  you  to  get  away 
before  the  police  arrived.  He  was  so  afraid  of  anything 
getting  into  the  papers.  I  drove  you  back  here,  and, 
as  you  still  seemed  stunned,  I  brought  you  up-stairs. 
I  didn't  mean  to  stay,  but  I  couldn't  get  you  to  say  a 
single  coherent  word.  I  was  afraid  to  leave  you 
alone  1 " 

"  I  suppose  I  was  drunk,"  he  said,  in  a  dull  tone.  "  I 
remember  filling  my  glass  over  and  over  again.  There 
is  one  thing,  though,"  he  added,  his  voice  gaining  a  sud- 
den strength ;  "  I  was  not  drunk  when  I  struck  the 
prince  1  I  remember  those  few  seconds  very  distinctly. 
I  saw  everything,  knew  everything,  felt  everything.  If 
no  one  had  interfered,  I  think  I  should  have  killed  him !  " 

"  You  were  not  drunk  at  all,"  she  declared,  with  a 
little  shiver,  "  but  you  were  in  a  state  of  terrible  excite- 
ment. It  was  a  long  time  before  I  could  get  you  to  lie 
down,  and  then  you  wouldn't  close  your  eyes  until  I 
came  and  sat  by  your  side.  I  watched  you  go  to  sleep. 
I  hope  you  are  not  angry  with  me !  I  didn't  like  to  go 
and  leave  you." 

"  How  could  I  be  angry  ?  "  he  protested.  "  You  are 
far  kinder  to  me  than  I  deserve.  I  expect  I  should  have 
been  in  a  police  cell  but  for  you !  " 

"  And  now,"  she  begged,  coming  over  to  him  and 
speaking  in  a  more  matter-of-fact  tone,  "  do  let  us  be 
practical.  I  must  run  away,  and  you  must  go  and 


308  THE  HILLMAN 

have  a  bath  and  change  your  clothes.  Don't  be 
afraid  of  your  reputation.  I  can  get  out  by  the  other 
entrance." 

He  made  no  movement.  She  laid  her  hand  on  his 
arm.  In  the  sunlight,  with  a  little  patch  of  rouge  still 
left  on  her  cheek,  with  her  disordered  hair  and  tired 
eyes,  she  looked  almost  ghastly. 

"  Remember,"  she  whispered,  "  you  have  to  go  to  see 
Xouise ! " 

He  covered  his  face  with  his  hands. 

"What's  the  use  of  it?"  he  groaned.  "It's  only 
another  turn  of  the  screw ! " 

"  Don't  be  foolish,  John,"  she  admonished  briskly. 
"  You  don't  actually  know  anything  yet  —  nothing  at 
all;  at  least,  you  are  not  sure  of  anything.  And  be- 
sides, you  strange,  impossible  person,"  she  went  on, 
patting  his  hand,  "  don't  you  see  that  you  must  judge 
her,  not  by  the  standards  of  your  world,  in  which  she 
lias  never  lived,  but  by  the  standards  of  her  world,  in 
which  she  was  born  and  bred?  That  is  only  fair,  isn't 
it?  " 

He  made  no  answer.  She  watched  him  anxiously, 
but  there  was  no  sign  in  his  face. 

"  Pull  yourself  together,  John,"  she  continued. 
'*'  Ring  for  some  tea,  get  your  bath,  and  then  have  it 
out  with  Louise.  Remember,  life  is  a  very  big  thing. 
You  are  dealing  this  morning  with  all  it  may  mean  to 
you." 

He  rose  listlessly  to  his  feet.  There  was  a  strange, 
dull  look  in  his  face. 

"  You  are  a  dear  girl,  Sophy ! "  he  said.  "  Don't 
go  just  yet.  I  have  never  felt  like  it  before  in  my  life, 
but  just  now  I  don't  want  to  be  left  alone.  Send  a  boy 
for  some  clothes,  and  I  will  order  some  tea." 


THE  HILLMAN  309 

She  hesitated. 

"  My  own  reputation,"  she  murmured,  "  is  abso- 
lutely of  no  consequence,  but  remember  that  you  live 
here,  and  — " 

"  Don't  be  silly !  "  he  interrupted.  "  What  does  that 
matter?  And  besides,  according  to  you  and  all  the 
rest  of  you  here,  these  things  don't  affect  a  man's  repu- 
tation —  they  are  expected  of  him.  See,  I  have  rung 
the  bell  for  breakfast.  Now  I  am  going  to  telephone 
down  for  a  messenger-boy  to  go  for  your  clothes." 

They  breakfasted  together,  a  little  later,  and  she 
made  him  smoke.  He  stood  before  the  window,  look- 
ing down  upon  the  river,  with  his  pipe  in  his  mouth  and 
an  unfamiliar  look  upon  his  face. 

"  Do  you  suppose  that  Louise  knows  anything?  "  he 
asked  at  length. 

"  I  should  think  not,"  she  replied.  **  It  is  for  you 
to  tell  her.  I  rang  up  the  prince's  house  while  you 
were  in  your  bathroom.  They  say  that  he  has  a 
broken  rib  and  some  bad  cuts,  sustained  in  a  motor  ac- 
cident last  night,  but  that  he  is  in  no  danger.  There 
was  nothing  about  the  affair  in  the  newspapers,  and  the 
prince's  servants  have  evidently  been  instructed  to  give 
this  account  to  inquirers." 

A  gleam  of  interest  shone  in  John's  face. 

"  By  the  bye,"  he  remarked,  "  the  prince  is  a  French- 
man. He  will  very  likely  expect  me  to  fight  with  him." 

"  No  hope  of  that,  my  belligerent  friend,"  Sophy 
declared,  with  an  attempt  at  a  smile.  "  The  prince 
knows  that  he  is  in  England.  He  would  not  be  guilty 
of  such  an  anachronism.  Besides,  he  is  a  person  of 
wonderfully  well-balanced  mind.  When  he  is  himself 
again,  he  will  realize  that  what  happened  to  him  is  ex- 
actly what  he  asked  for." 


310  THE  HILLMAN 

John  took  up  his  hat  and  gloves.  He  glanced  at  the 
clock  —  it  was  a  little  past  eleven. 

"  I  am  ready,"  he  announced.  "  Let  me  drive  you 
home  first." 

His  motor  was  waiting  at  the  door,  and  he  left 
Sophy  at  her  rooms.  Before  she  got  out,  she  held  his 
arm  for  a  moment. 

"  John,"  she  said,  "  remember  that  Louise  is  very 
high-strung  and  very  sensitive.  Be  careful !  " 

"  There  is  only  one  thing  to  do  or  to  say,"  he  an- 
swered. "  There  is  only  one  way  in  which  I  can  do 
it." 

He  drove  the  car  down  Piccadilly  like  a  man  in  a 
dream,  steering  as  carefully  as  usual  through  the  traf- 
fic, and  glancing  every  now  and  then  with  unseeing 
eyes  at  the  streams  of  people  upon  the  pavements. 
Finally  he  came  to  a  standstill  before  Louise's  house 
and  stopped  the  engine  with  deliberate  care.  Then  he 
rang  the  bell,  and  was  shown  into  her  little  drawing- 
room,  which  seemed  to  have  become  a  perfect  bower  of 
pink  and  white  lilac. 

He  sat  waiting  as  if  in  a  dream,  unable  to  decide 
upon  his  words,  unable  even  to  sift  his  thoughts.  The 
one  purpose  with  which  he  had  come,  the  one  question 
he  designed  to  ask,  was  burning  in  his  brain.  The 
minutes  of  her  absence  seemed  tragically  long.  He 
walked  up  and  down,  oppressed  by  the  perfume  of  the 
flowers.  The  room  seemed  too  small  for  him.  He 
longed  to  throw  open  all  the  windows,  to  escape  from 
the  atmosphere,  in  which  for  the  first  time  he  seemed 
to  find  some  faint,  enervating  poison. 

Then  at  last  the  door  opened  and  Louise  entered. 
She  came  toward  him  with  a  little  welcoming  smile  upon 
her  lips.  Her  manner  was  gay,  almost  affectionate. 


THE  HILLMAN  311 

"  Have  you  come  to  take  me  for  a  ride  before 
lunch  ? "  she  asked.  "  Do  you  know,  I  think  that  I 
should  really  like  it !  We  might  lunch  at  Ranelagh  on 
our  way  home." 

The  words  stuck  in  his  throat.  From  where  she  was, 
she  saw  now  the  writing  on  his  face.  She  stopped 
short. 

"  What  is  it?  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  Ever  since  I  knew  you,"  he  said  slowly,  "  there 
have  been  odd  moments  when  I  have  lived  in  torture. 
During  the  last  fortnight,  those  moments  have  become 
hours.  Last  night  the  end  came." 

"  Are  you  mad,  John  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  replied.  "  Listen.  When  I  left  you 
last  night,  I  went  to  the  club  in  Adelphi  Terrace. 
There  was  a  well-known  critic  there,  comparing  you 
and  Latrobe.  On  the  whole  he  favored  you,  but  he 
gave  Latrobe  the  first  place  in  certain  parts.  Latrobe, 
he  said,  had  had  more  experience  of  life.  She  had  had 
a  dozen  lovers  —  you,  only  one !  " 

She  winced.  The  glad  freshness  seemed  suddenly  to 
fade  from  her  face.  Her  eyes  became  strained. 

"Well?" 

"  I  found  Graillot.  I  cornered  him.  I  asked  him 
for  the  truth  about  you.  He  put  me  off  with  an  eva- 
sion. I  came  down  here  and  looked  at  your  window. 
It  was  three  o'clock  in  the  morning.  I  dared  not  come 
in.  A  very  demon  of  unrest  was  in  my  blood.  I 
stopped  at  a  night-club  on  my  way  back.  Sophy  was 
there.  I  asked  her  plainly  to  put  me  out  of  my  agony. 
She  was  like  Graillot.  She  fenced  with  me.  And  then 
—  the  prince  came !  " 

"  The  prince  was  there?  "  she  faltered. 

"  He  came  up  to  the  table  where  Sophy  and  I  were 


3i2  THE  HILLMAN 

sitting.  I  think  I  was  half  mad.  I  poured  him  a 
glass  of  wine  and  asked  him  to  drink  with  me.  I  told 
him  that  you  had  promised  to  become  my  wife.  He 
raised  his  glass  —  I  can  see  him  now.  He  told  me,  with 
a  smile,  that  it  was  the  anniversary  of  the  day  on  which 
you  had  promised  to  become  his  mistress  1 " 

Louise  shrank  back. 

"He  told  you  that?" 

John  was  on  his  feet.  The  fever  was  blazing  once 
more. 

"  He  told  me  that,  face  to  face  —  told  me  that  it 
was  the  anniversary  of  the  day  on  which  you  had  con- 
sented to  become  his  mistress !  " 

"And  you?" 

"  If  we  had  been  alone,"  John  answered  simply,  "  I 
should  have  killed  him.  I  drove  the  words  down  his 
throat.  I  threw  him  back  to  the  place  he  had  left,  and 
hurt  him  rather  badly,  I'm  afraid.  Sophy  took  me 
home  somehow,  and  now  I  am  here." 

She  leaned  a  little  forward  on  the  couch.  She  looked 
into  his  face  searchingly,  anxiously,  as  if  seeking  for 
something  she  could  not  find.  His  lips  were  set  in 
hard,  cold  lines.  The  likeness  to  Stephen  had  never 
been  more  apparent. 

"  Listen !  "  she  said.  "  You  are  a  Puritan.  While 
I  admire  the  splendid  self-restraint  evolved  from  your 
creed,  it  is  partly  temperamental,  isn't  it?  I  was 
brought  up  to  see  things  differently,  and  I  do  see  them 
differently.  Tell  me,  do  you  love  me?" 

The  veins  swelled  for  a  moment  upon  his  forehead, 
stood  out  like  whip-cord  along  the  back  of  his  hands, 
but  of  softening  there  was  no  sign  in  his  face. 

"Love  you?  "  he  repeated.  "You  know  it!  Could 
I  suffer  the  tortures  of  the  damned  if  I  didn't?  Could 


THE  HILLMAN  313 

I  come  to  you  with  a  man's  blood  upon  my  hands  if 
I  didn't?  If  the  prince  lives,  it  is  simply  the  accident 
of  fate.  I  tell  you  that  if  we  had  been  alone  I  should 
have  driven  the  breath  out  of  his  body.  Love  you!'* 

She  rose  slowly  to  her  feet.  She  leaned  with  her  el- 
bow upon  the  mantelpiece,  and  her  face  was  hidden 
for  a  moment. 

'*  Let  me  think !  "  she  said.  "  I  don't  know  what  to 
say  to  you.  I  don't  know  you,  John.  There  isn't 
anything  left  of  the  John  I  loved.  Let  me  look 
again ! " 

She  swung  around. 

"  You  speak  of  love,"  she  went  on  suddenly.  "  Do 
you  know  what  it  is?  Do  you  know  that  loves  reaches 
to  the  heavens,  and  can  also  touch  the  nethermost 
depths  of  hell?  If  I  throw  myself  on  my  knees  before 
you  now,  if  I  link  my  fingers  around  your  neck,  if  I 
whisper  to  you  that  in  the  days  that  were  past  be- 
fore you  came  I  had  done  things  I  would  fain  forget, 
if  I  told  you  that  from  henceforth  every  second  of  my 
life  was  yours,  that  my  heart  beat  with  yours  by  day 
and  by  night,  that  I  had  no  other  thought,  no  other 
idream,  than  to  stay  by  your  side,  to  see  you  happy, 
to  give  all  there  was  of  myself  into  your  keeping,  to 
keep  it  holy  and  sacred  for  you  —  John,  what  then?  " 

Never  a  line  in  his  face  softened.  He  looked  at  her 
a  moment  as  he  had  looked  at  the  woman  in  Piccadilly, 
into  whose  hand  he  had  dropped  gold. 

"  Are  you  going  to  tell  me  that  it  is  the  truth  ?  "  he 
asked  hoarsely. 

She  stood  quite  still,  her  bosom  rising  and  falling. 
Even  then  she  made  one  last  effort.  She  held  out  her 
hands  with  a  little  trembling  gesture,  her  eyes  filled 
with  tears. 


314  THE  HILLMAN 

"  Think  for  a  single  moment  of  that  feeling  which 
you  call  love,  John !  "  she  pleaded.  "  Listen !  I  love 
you.  It  has  come  to  me  at  last,  after  all  these  years. 
It  lives  in  my  heart,  a  greater  thing  than  my  ambi- 
tion, a  greater  thing  than  my  success,  a  greater  thing 
than  life  itself.  I  love  you,  John.  Can't  you  feel, 
don't  you  know,  that  nothing  else  in  life  can  matter?  " 

Not  a  line  in  his  face  softened.  His  teeth  had  come 
together.  He  was  like  a  man  upon  the  rack. 

"It  is  true?     It  is  true,  then?  "  he  demanded. 

She  looked  at  him  without  any  reply.  The  seconds 
seemed  drawn  out  to  an  interminable  period.  He 
heard  the  rolling  of  the  motor-buses  in  the  street.  Once 
more  the  perfume  of  the  lilacs  seemed  to  choke  him. 
Then  she  leaned  back  and  touched  the  bell. 

"  The  prince  spoke  the  truth,"  she  said.  "  I  think 
you  had  better  go ! " 


XXXVII 

Before  the  wide-flung  window  of  her  attic  bedcham- 
<  ber,  Sophy  Gerard  was  crouching  with  her  face  turned 
westward.  She  had  abandoned  all  effort  to  sleep. 
The  one  thought  that  was  beating  in  her  brain  was 
too  insistent,  too  clamorous.  Somewhere  beyond  that 
tangled  mass  of  chimneys  and  telegraph-poles,  some- 
where on  the  other  side  of  the  gray  haze  which  hung 
about  the  myriad  roofs,  John  and  Louise  were  working 
out  their  destiny,  speaking  at  last  the  naked  truth  to 
each  other. 

Somehow  or  other,  during  those  few  minutes  every 
thought  of  herself  and  her  own  life  seemed  to  have 
passed  away.  John's  face  seemed  always  before  her 
—  the  sudden,  hard  lines  about  his  mouth;  the  dull, 
smoldering  pain  in  his  eyes.  How  would  he  return? 
Louise  had  guarded  the  secret  of  her  life  so  well. 
Would  he  wrest  it  from  her,  or  — 

She  started  suddenly  back  into  the  room.  There 
was  a  knocking  at  the  door,  something  quite  different 
from  her  landlady's  summons.  She  wrapped  her  dress- 
ing-gown around  her,  pulled  the  curtains  around  the 
little  bed  on  which  she  had  striven  to  rest,  and  moved 
toward  the  door.  She  turned  the  handle  softly. 

"  Who  is  that?  "  she  asked. 

John  almost  pushed  his  way  past  her.  She  closed 
the  door  with  nerveless  fingers.  Her  eyes  sought  his 
face,  her  lips  were  parted.  She  clung  *o  the  back  of 
the  chair. 


316  THE  HILLMAN 

"  You  have  seen  Louise?  "  she  exclaimed  breathlessly. 

"  I  have  seen  Louise,"  he  answered.  "  It  is  all 
over ! " 

She  looked  a  little  helplessly  around  her.  Then  she 
selected  the  one  chair  in  the  tiny  apartment  that  was 
likely  to  hold  him,  and  led  him  to  it. 

"  Please  sit  down,"  she  begged,  "  and  tell  me  about 
it.  You  mustn't  despair  like  this  all  at  once.  I  won- 
der if  I  could  help !  " 

"  No  one  can  help,"  he  told  her  grimly.  "  It  is  all 
finished  and  done  with.  I  would  rather  not  talk  any 
more  about  it.  I  didn't  come  here  to  talk  about  it. 
I  came  to  see  you.  So  this  is  where  you  live ! " 

He  looked  around  him,  and  for  a  moment  he  almost 
forgot  the  pain  which  was  gnawing  at  his  heart.  It 
was  such  a  simple,  plainly  furnished  little  room,  so 
clean,  so  neat,  so  pathetically  eloquent  of  poverty. 
She  drew  closer  together  the  curtains  which  concealed 
her  little  chintz-covered  bed,  and  came  and  sat  down  by; 
his  side. 

"  You  know,  you  are  rather  a  silly  person,"  she  whis- 
pered soothingly.  "Wait  for  a  time  and  perhaps 
things  will  look  different.  I  know  that  Louise  cares. 
Isn't  that  the  great  thing,  after  all?  " 

"  I  would  like  not  to  talk  about  it  any  more,"  said 
John.  "  Just  now  I  cannot  put  what  I  feel  into  words. 
What  remains  is  just  this:  I  have  been  a  fool,  a  sort 
of  Don  Quixote,  building  castles  in  Spain  and  believ- 
ing that  real  men  and  women  could  live  in  them.  I 
have  expected  the  impossible  in  life.  It  is  perhaps  a 
good  thing  that  I  can  see  the  truth  now.  I  am  going 
to  climb  down !  " 

She  clasped  her  hands  tighter  around  his  arm.  Her 
eyes  sought  his  anxiously. 


THE  HILLMAN  317 

"  But  you  mustn't  climb  down,  John,"  she  insisted. 
**  You  are  so  much  nicer  where  you  are,  so  much  too 
good  for  the  silly,  ugly  things.  You  must  fight  this  in 
your  own  way,  fight  it  according  to  your  own  stand- 
ards. You  are  too  good  to  come  down  — " 

"  Am  I  too  good  for  you,  Sophy  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him,  and  her  whole  face  seemed  to 
soften.  The  light  in  her  blue  eyes  was  sweet  and  wist- 
ful. A  bewildering  little  smile  curled  her  lips. 

"  Don't  be  stupid !  "  she  begged.  "  A  few  minutes 
ago  I  was  looking  out  of  my  window  and  thinking  what 
a  poor  little  morsel  of  humanity  I  am,  and  what  a  use- 
less, drifting  life  I  have  led.  But  that's  foolish. 
Come  now !  What  I  want  to  persuade  you  to  do  is  to 
go  back  to  Cumberland  for  a  time,  and  try  hard  — : 
very  hard  indeed  —  to  realize  what  it  means  to  be  a 
woman  like  Louise,  with  her  temperament,  her  intense 
intellectual  curiosity,  her  charm.  Nothing  could  make 
Louise  different  from  what  she  is  —  a  dear,  sweet  woman 
and  a  great  artist.  And,  John,  I  believe  she  loves 
you!" 

His  face  remained  undisturbed  even  by  the  flicker  of 
an  eyelid. 

"  Sophy,"  he  said,  "  I  have  decided  to  go  abroad. 
Will  you  come  with  me?" 

She  sat  quite  still.  Again  her  face  was  momentarily 
transformed.  All  its  pallor  and  fatigue  seemed  to  have 
vanished.  Her  head  had  fallen  a  little  back.  She 
was  looking  through  the  ceiling  into  heaven.  Then  the 
light  died  away  almost  as  quickly  as  it  had  come.  Her 
lips  shook  tremulously. 

"  You  know  you  don't  mean  it,  John !  You  wouldn't 
take  me.  And  if  you  did,  you'd  hate  me  afterward  — 
you'd  want  to  send  me  back ! " 


3i8  THE  HILLMAN 

He  suddenly  drew  her  to  him,  his  arm  went  around 
her  waist.  She  had  lost  all  power  of  resistance.  For 
the  first  time  in  his  life  of  his  own  deliberate  accord,  he 
kissed  her  —  feverishly,  almost  roughly. 

"  Sophy,"  he  declared,  "  I  have  been  a  fool  1  I  have 
come  an  awful  cropper,  but  you  might  help  me  with 
what's  left.  I  am  going  to  start  afresh.  I  am  go- 
ing to  get  rid  of  some  of  these  ideas  of  mine  which 
have  brought  me  nothing  but  misery  and  disappoint- 
ment. I  don't  want  to  live  up  to  them  any  longer.  I 
want  to  just  forget  them.  I  want  to  live  as  other  men 
live  —  just  the  simple,  ordinary  life.  Come  with  me! 
I'll  take  you  to  the  places  we've  talked  about  together. 
I  am  always  happy  and  contented  with  you.  Let's  try 
it!" 

Her  arms  stole  around  his  neck. 

"  If  only  you  cared,  John !  "  she  sobbed. 

"  But  I  do,"  he  insisted.  "  I  love  to  have  you  with 
me,  I  love  to  see  you  happy,  I  shall  love  to  give  you 
pretty  things.  I  shall  be  proud  of  you,  soothed  by  you 
: — and  rested.  What  do  you  say,  Sophy?" 

"  John,"  she  whispered,  hiding  her  face  for  a  mo- 
ment. "What  can  I  say?  What  could  any  poor, 
weak,  little  creature  like  me  say?  You  know  I  am 
fond  of  you  —  I  haven't  had  the  pride,  even,  to  con- 
ceal it!" 

He  stood  up,  held  her  face  for  a  moment  between  his 
hands,  and  kissed  her  forehead. 

"  Then  that's  all  settled,"  he  declared.  "  I  am  go- 
ing back  to  my  rooms  now.  I  want  you  to  come  and 
dine  with  me  there  to-night,  at  eight  o'clock." 

Her  eyes  sought  his,  pleaded  with  them,  searched 
them. 

"You  are  sure,  John?  "  she  asked,  her  voice  a  little 


THE  HILLMAN  319 

broken.     "You  want  me  really?     I  am  to  come?     You 
won't  be  sorry  —  afterward?  " 

"  I  am  sure,"  he  answered  steadfastly.  "  I  shall  ex- 
pect you  at  eight  o'clock  1 " 

John  went  back  to  his  rooms  fighting  all  the  time 
against  a  sense  of  unreality,  a  sense  almost  of  lost  iden- 
tity. He  bought  an  evening  newspaper  and  read  it  on 
the  way.  He  talked  to  the  hall-porter,  he  talked  to 
a  neighbor  with  whom  he  ascended  in  the  lift  —  he  did 
everything  except  think. 

In  his  rooms  he  telephoned  to  the  restaurant  for  a 
waiter,  and  with  the  menu  in  his  hand,  a  few  minutes 
later,  he  ordered  dinner.  Then  he  glanced  at  his  watch 
—  it  was  barely  seven  o'clock.  He  went  down  to  the 
barber-shop,  was  shaved  and  had  his  hair  cut,  encour- 
aging the  barber  all  the  time  to  talk  to  him.  He  gave 
his  hands  over  to  a  manicure,  and  did  his  best  to  talk 
nonsense  to  her.  Then  he  came  up-stairs  again, 
changed  his  clothes  with  great  care,  and  went  into  his 
little  sitting  room. 

It  was  five  minutes  to  eight,  and  dinner  had  been 
laid  at  a  little  round  table  in  the  center  of  the  room. 
There  was  a  bowl  of  pink  roses  —  Sophy's  favorite 
flower  —  sent  in  from  the  florist's ;  the  table  was  lighted 
by  a  pink-shaded  lamp.  John  went  around  the  room, 
turning  out  the  other  lights,  until  the  apartment  was 
hung  with  shadows  save  for  the  little  spot  of  color  in 
the  middle.  An  unopened  bottle  of  champagne  stood 
in  an  ice-pail,  and  two  specially  prepared  cocktails  had 
been  placed  upon  the  little  side-table.  There  were  no 
more  preparations  to  be  made. 

John  walked  restlessly  to  the  window  and  gazed  at 
the  curving  line  of  lights  along  the  Embankment.  This 


320  THE  HILLMAN 

was  the  end,  then  —  the  end  of  his  strenuous  days, 
the  end  of  his  ideals,  the  end  of  a  love-story  which  had 
made  life  for  a  time  seem  so  wonderful !  He  could  hear 
them  talking  about  him  in  a  few  days'  time  —  the 
prince's  subtle  sneer,  the  jests  of  his  acquaintances. 
And  Louise!  His  heart  stopped  for  a  moment  as  he 
tried  to  think  of  her  face  when  she  heard  the  news. 

He  turned  impatiently  away  from  the  window  and 
glanced  at  the  clock.  It  was  almost  eight.  He  tried 
to  imagine  that  the  bell  was  ringing,  that  Sophy  was 
standing  there  on  the  threshold  in  her  simple  but  dainty 
evening  dress,  with  a  little  smile  parting  her  lips.  The 
end  of  it  all !  He  pulled  down  the  blind.  No  more  of 
the  window,  no  more  looking  out  at  the  lights,  no  more 
living  in  the  clouds !  It  was  time,  indeed,  that  he  lived 
as  other  men.  He  lifted  one  of  the  glasses  to  his  lips 
and  drained  its  contents. 

Then  the  bell  rang.  He  moved  forward  to  answer 
its  summons  with  beating  heart.  As  he  opened  it,  he 
received  a  shock.  A  messenger-boy  stood  outside. 
He  took  the  note  which  the  boy  handed  him  and 
tore  it  open  under  the  lamp.  There  were  only  a  few 
lines: 

John,  my  heart  is  breaking,  but  I  know  you  do  not  mean 
what  you  said.  I  know  it  was  only  a  moment  of  madness 
with  you.  I  know  you  will  love  Louise  all  your  life,  and 
will  bless  me  all  your  life  because  I  am  giving  up  the  one 
thing  which  could  make  my  life  a  paradise.  I  shall  be  in  the 
train  when  you  read  this,  on  my  way  to  Bath.  I  have  wired 
my  young  man,  as  you  call  him,  to  meet  me.  I  am  going  to 
ask  him  to  marry  me,  if  he  will,  next  week. 

Good-by!  I  give  you  no  advice.  Some  day  I  think  that 
life  will  right  itself  with  you. 

SOPHY. 


THE  HILLMAN  321 

The  letter  dropped  upon  the  table.  John  stood  for 
a  moment  dazed.  Suddenly  he  began  to  laugh.  Then 
he  remembered  the  messenger-boy,  gave  him  half  a 
crown,  and  closed  the  door.  He  came  back  into  the 
room  and  took  his  place  at  the  table.  He  looked  at 
the  empty  chair  by  his  side,  looked  at  the  full  glass  on 
the  sideboard.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  was  past  all 
sensations.  The  waiter  came  in  silently. 

"  You  can  serve  the  dinner,"  John  ordered,  shaking 
out  his  napkin.  "  Open  the  champagne  before  you  go." 

"  You  will  be  alone,  sir  ?  "  the  man  inquired. 

"  I  shall  be  alone,"  John  answered. 


XXXVIII 

It  was  a  room  of  silence,  save  for  the  hissing  of  the 
green  logs  that  burned  on  the  open  hearth,  and  for 
the  slow  movements  of  Jennings  as  he  cleared  the  table. 
Straight  and  grim  in  his  chair,  with  the  newspaper  by 
his  side,  Stephen  Strangewey  sat  smoking  stolidly. 
Opposite  to  him,  almost  as  grim,  equally  silent,  sat 
John. 

"  Things  were  quiet  at  Market  Ketton  to-day,  then, 
D"ohn?  "  Stephen  asked  at  last. 

"  There  was  nothing  doing,"  was  the  brief  reply. 

That,  for  the  space  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour  or  so, 
was  the  sole  attempt  at  conversation  between  the  two 
brothers.  Then  Jennings  appeared  with  a  decanter 
of  wine  and  two  glasses,  which  he  reverently  filled. 
Stephen  held  his  up  to  the  light  and  looked  at  it  crit- 
ically. John's  remained  by  his  side,  unnoticed. 

"  A  glass  for  yourself,  Jennings,"  Stephen  ordered. 

"  I  thank  ye  kindly,  sir,"  the  old  man  replied. 

He  fetched  a  glass  from  the  sideboard,  filled  it,  and 
held  it  respectfully  before  him. 

"It's  the  old  toast,"  Stephen  said  glumly.  "You 
know  it ! " 

"  Aye,  Master  Stephen ! "  the  servant  assented. 
"We've  drunk  it  together  for  many  a  long  year.  I 
give  it  ye  now  with  all  my  heart  r—.  confusion  to  all 
women ! " 

They  both  glanced  toward  John,  who  showed  no  signs 
of  movement.  Then  they  drank  together,  the  older 


THE  HILLMAN  323 

man  and  his  servant.  Still  John  never  moved.  Jen- 
nings drained  his  glass,  placed  the  decanter  by  his  mas- 
ter's side,  and  withdrew. 

"  So  the  poison's  still  there,  brother  ? "  Stephen 
asked. 

"And  will  be  so  long  as  I  live,"  John  confessed 
gloomily.  "  For  all  that,  I'll  not  drink  your  toast." 

"Why  not?" 

"  There  was  a  little  girl  —  you  saw  her  when  you 
were  in  London.  She  is  married  now,  but  I  think  of 
her  sometimes;  and  when  I  do,  you  and  old  Jennings 
seem  to  me  like  a  couple  of  blithering  idiots  cursing 
things  too  wonderful  for  you  to  understand ! " 

Stephen  made  no  protest.  For  a  time  he  smoked  in 
silence.  Curiously  enough,  as  they  sat  there  together, 
some  of  the  grim  fierceness  seemed  to  have  passed  from 
his  expression  and  settled  upon  John.  More  than  once, 
as  he  looked  across  at  his  younger  brother,  it  almost 
seemed  as  if  there  was  something  of  self-reproach  in 
his  questioning  look. 

"  You  dined  at  the  ordinary  in  Market  Ketton  ?  " 
Stephen  asked  at  last. 

"  I  did." 

"  Then  you  heard  the  news  ?  " 

"Who  could  help  it?"  John  muttered.  "There 
wasn't  much  else  talked  about." 

"  Bailiff  Henderson  has  been  over  here,"  Stephen 
went  on.  "  There's  a  small  army  of  painters  and  deco- 
rators coming  down  to  the  castle  next  week.  You  saw 
the  announcement  of  the  wedding  in  the  Morning  Post, 
maybe  ?  " 

John  assented  without  words.  Stephen  smoked 
vigorously  for  a  few  moments.  Every  now  and  then 
he  glanced  across  to  where  John  was  sitting.  Once 


324  THE  HILLMAN 

again  the  uneasiness  was  in  his  eyes,  an  uneasiness 
which  was  almost  self-reproach. 

"  You  mind  what  I  called  her  once,  John  —  a  witch- 
woman?  She  is  that,  right  enough.  This  marriage 
of  hers  proves  it.  Although  he  is  half  a  Frenchman, 
the  Prince  of  Seyre  is  the  greatest  landowner  in  the 
county.  He  is  the  worst  landlord,  maybe,  but  the 
blood's  there.  He  is  a  man  who  has  lived  among  women 
all  his  life.  He  should  know  something  about  them, 
and  be  proof  against  their  wiles.  Yet  he's  going  to 
marry  her  next  Thursday ! " 

John  moved  a  little  restlessly  in  his  chair. 

"Let's  drop  it,  Stephen,"  he  begged.  "We  both 
know  the  facts.  She  is  going  to  marry  him,  and  that's 
the  end  of  it.  Fill  your  glass  up  again.  Here's  mine 
untouched.  I'll  drink  your  toast  with  you,  if  you'll 
leave  out  the  little  girl  who  was  kind  to  me.  I'll  give  it 
to  you  myself  —  confusion  to  all  women ! " 

"  Confusion  to  — "  Stephen  began.  "  What  on  earth 
is  that?" 

They  both  heard  it  at  the  same  time  —  the  faint 
beating  of  a  motor-engine  in  the  distance.  John  set 
down  his  glass.  There  was  a  strange  look  in  his  eyes. 

"  There  are  more  cars  passing  along  the  road  now 
than  in  the  old  days,"  he  muttered ;  "  but  that's  a  queer 
sound.  It  reminds  one  —  good  Heavens,  how  it  re- 
minds one!" 

There  was  a  look  of  agony  in  his  face  for  a  moment. 
Then  once  more  he  raised  his  glass  to  his  lips. 

"  It's  passed  out  of  hearing,"  Stephen  said.  "  It's 
some  one  on  the  way  to  the  castle,  maybe." 

Still  their  glasses  remained  suspended  in  mid  air. 
The  little  garden  gate  had  opened  and  closed  with  a 
click ;  there  were  footsteps  upon  the  flinty  walk. 


THE  HILLMAN  325 

'*  It's  some  one  coming  here  1 "  John  cried  hoarsely. 
*'  Why  can't  they  keep  away  ?  It's  two  years  ago  this 
week  since  I  brought  her  up  the  drive  and  you  met  us 
at  the  front  door.  Two  years  ago,  Stephen!  Who 
can  it  be?  " 

They  heard  the  front  door  open,  they  heard  Jen- 
ning's  voice  raised  in  unusual  and  indignant  protest. 
Then  their  own  door  was  suddenly  flung  wide,  and  a 
miracle  happened.  John's  glass  slipped  from  his  fin- 
gers, and  the  wine  streamed  out  across  the  carpet.  He 
shrank  back,  gripping  the  tablecloth.  Stephen  turned 
his  head,  and  sat  as  if  turned  to  stone. 

"John!" 

She  was  coming  toward  him  exactly  as  he  had 
dreamed  of  her  so  many  times,  her  hands  outstretched, 
her  lips  quivering,  with  that  sweet  look  in  her  face 
which  had  dwelt  there  once  for  a  few  days  —  just  a  few 
days  of  her  life. 

"  John,"  she  faltered,  "  it  isn't  the  car  this  time  — 
it  is  I  who  have  broken  down!  I  cannot  go  on.  I 
have  no  pride  left.  I  have  come  to  you.  Will  you 
help  me?  " 

He  found  himself  upon  his  feet.  Stephen,  too,  had 
risen.  She  stood  between  the  two  men,  and  glanced 
from  one  to  the  other.  Then  she  looked  more  closely 
into  John's  face,  peering  forward  with  a  little  start  of 
pain,  and  her  eyes  were  filled  with  tears. 

"  John,"  she  cried,  "  forgive  me !  You  were  so  cruel 
that  morning,  and  you  seemed  to  understand  so  little. 
Don't  you  really  understand,  even  now?  Have  you 
ever  known  the  truth,  I  wonder?  " 

"  The  truth  !  "  he  echoed  hoarsely.  "  Don't  we  all 
know  that?  Don't  we  all  know  that  he  is  to  give  you 
your  rights,  that  you  are  coming  — " 


326  THE  HILLMAN 

"  Stop ! "  she  ordered  him. 

He  obeyed,  and  for  a  moment  there  was  silence  — 
a  tense,  strained  silence. 

"  John,"  she  continued  at  last,  "  I  have  no  rights 
to  receive  from  the  Prince  of  Seyre.  He  owes  me  noth- 
ing. Listen!  Always  we  have  seen  life  differently, 
you  and  I.  To  me  there  is  only  one  great  thing,  and 
that  is  love;  and  beyond  that  nothing  counts.  I  tried 
to  love  the  prince  before  you  came,  and  I  thought  I 
did,  and  I  promised  him  at  last  what  you  know,  be- 
cause I  believed  that  he  loved  me  and  that  I  loved  him, 
and  that  if  so  it  was  his  right.  Look  down  the  road, 
John!  On  that  night  I  was  on  my  way  to  the  castle, 
to  give  myself  to  him;  but  I  broke  down,  and  in  the 
morning  the  world  was  all  different,  and  I  went  back 
to  London.  It  has  been  different  ever  since,  and  there 
has  never  been  any  question  of  anything  between 
the  prince  and  me,  because  I  knew  that  it  was  not 
love." 

John  was  shaking  in  every  limb.  His  eyes  were  filled 
with  fierce  questioning.  Stephen  sat  there,  and  there 
was  wonder  in  his  face,  too. 

"  When  you  came  to  me  that  morning,"  she  went 
on,  "  you  spoke  to  me  in  a  strange  tongue.  I  couldn't 
understand  you,  you  seemed  so  far  away.  I  wanted  to 
tell  you  the  whole  truth,  but  I  didn't.  Perhaps  I  wasn't 
sure  —  perhaps  it  seemed  to  me  that  it  was  best  for 
me  to  forget,  if  ever  I  had  cared,  for  the  ways  of  our 
lives  seemed  so  far  apart.  You  went  away,  and  I 
drifted  on ;  but  it  wasn't  true  that  I  ever  promised  to 
marry  the  prince.  No  one  had  any  right  to  put  that 
paragraph  in  the  newspaper !  " 

"  But  what  are  you  doing  here,  then?"  John  asked 
hoarsely.  "Aren't  you  on  your  way  to  the  castle?" 


THE  HILLMAN  327 

She  came  a  little  nearer  still ;  her  arms  went  around 
his  neck. 

"  You  dear  stupid ! "  she  cried.  "  Haven't  I  told 
you?  I've  tried  to  do  without  you,  and  I  can't.  I've 
come  for  you.  Come  outside,  please !  It's  quite  light. 
The  moon's  coming  over  the  hills.  I  want  to  walk  up 
the  orchard.  I  want  to  hear  just  what  I've  come  to 
hear!" 

He  passed  out  of  the  room  in  a  dream,  under  the 
blossom-laden  boughs  of  the  orchard,  and  up  the  hill- 
side toward  the  church.  The  dream  passed,  but 
Louise  remained,  flesh  and  blood.  Her  lips  were  warm 
and  her  arms  held  him  almost  feverishly. 

"  In  that  little  church,  John,  and  quickly  —  so 
quickly,  please !  "  she  whispered. 

Jennings  hastened  in  to  where  Stephen  was  sitting 
alone. 

"Mr.  Stephen,"  he  cried,  "what's  coming  to  us? 
There's  that  French  hussy  outside,  and  a  motor-car 
in  the  drive,  and  the  chauffeur's  asking  where  he's  to 
sleep.  The  woman  wants  to  know  whether  she  can 
have  the  same  bedroom  for  her  mistress  as  last  time ! " 

"  Then  why  don't  you  go  and  see  about  it,  you 
old  fool  ?  "  Stephen  replied.  "  Pick  up  those  pieces 
of  glass  there,  lay  the  cloth,  and  get  some  supper 
ready." 

Jennings  gazed  at  his  master,  dumbfounded.  No 
power  of  speech  remained  to  him. 

Through  the  open  doorway  they  heard  Aline's  voice 
in  the  hall. 

"  Meester  Jennings,  will  you  please  come  and  help 
me  with  the  luggage  ?  " 

"  (Jet  along  with  you !  "  Stephen  ordered.     "  You'd 


328  THE  HILLMAN 

better  hurry  up  with  the  supper,  too.  The  boy  Tom 
can  see  to  the  luggage." 

The  old  man  recovered  himself  slowly. 

"  You're  taking  'em  in,  sir  —  taking  'em  into  the 
house?  "  he  gasped.  "What  about  that  toast?  " 

Stephen  refilled  two  glasses. 

"  We'd  better  alter  it  a  little,"  he  declared.  "  Here's 
confusion  to  most  women,  but  luck  to  John  and  his 
wife!" 

"  Mr.  John  and  his  wife ! "  Jennings  repeated,  as  he 
set  his  glass  down  empty.  "I'll  just  see  that  them 
sheets  is  aired  up-stairs,  sir,  or  that  hussy  will  be  mak- 
ing eyes  at  Tom !  " 

He  departed,  and  Stephen  was  left  alone.  He  sat 
and  listened  to  the  sound  of  luggage  being  taken  up- 
stairs, to  Aline's  little  torrent  of  directions,  good-hu- 
mored but  profuse,  to  the  sound  of  preparations  in  the 
kitchen.  In  the  room  the  tall  clock  ticked  solemnly; 
a  fragment  of  the  log  every  now  and  then  fell  upon  the 
hearth. 

Presently  he  rose  to  his  feet.  He  heard  the  click 
of  the  garden  gate,  the  sound  of  John  and  Louise  re- 
turning. He  rose  and  stood  ready  to  welcome  them. 


THE    END 


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Cabbage  and  Kings.    By  O.  Henry. 

Cabin  Fever.    By  B.  M.  Bower. 

Calling  of  Dan  Matthews,  The.    By  Harold  Bell  Wright* 

Cape  Cod  Stories.    By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Cap'n  Abe,  Storekeeper.    By  James  A".  Cooper. 

Cap'n  Dan's  Daughter.    By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Cap'n  Erl.    By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Ccp'n  Jonah*s  Fortune.    By  James  A.  Cooper. 

Cap'n  Warren's  Wards.    By  Joseph  'C.  Lincoln. 

Chinese  Label,  The.    By  J.  Frank  Davis. 

Christine  of  the  Young  Heart.  By  Louise  Breintenfcacfi  Clancy. 

Cinderella  Jane.    By  Marjorie  B.  Cooke. 

Cinema  Murder,  The.    By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

City  of  Masks,  The.    By  George  Barr  McCutcheon. 

Cleek  of  Scotland  Yard.   By  T.  W.  Hanshew. 


Popular  Copyright  Novels 

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Ask  Your  Dealer  for  a  Complete  List  of 
A.  L.  Burt  Company's  Popular  Copyright  Fiction 

Cleek,  The  Man  of  Forty  Faces.    By  Thomas  W.  Hanshew. 

deck's  Government  Cases.    By  Thomas  W.  Hanshew. 

Clipped  Wings.    By  Rupert  Hughes. 

Clutch  of  Circumstance,  The.    By  Marjorie  Benton  Cooke. 

Coast  of  Adventure,  The.    By  Harold  Bindloss. 

Come-Back,  The.    By  Carolyn  Wells. 

Coming  of  Cassidy,  The.    By  Clarence  E.  Mulford. 

Coming  of  the  Law,  The.    By  Charles  A.  Seltzer. 

Comrades  of  Peril.     By  Randall  Parrish. 

Conquest  of  Canaan,  The.    By  Booth  Tarkington. 

Conspirators,  The.     By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 

Contraband.     By  Randall  Parrish. 

Cottage  of  Delight,  The.    By  Will  N.  Harben. 

Court  of  Inquiry,  A.    By  Grace  S.  Richmond. 

Cricket,  The.     By  Marjorie  Benton  Cooke. 

Crimson  Gardenia,  The,  and  Other  Tales  of  Adventure.    By 

Rex  Beach. 

Crimson  Tide,  The.    By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 
Cross  Currents.    By  Author  of  "Pollyanna." 
Cross  Pull,  The.     By  Hal.  G.  Evarts. 
Cry  in  the  Wilderness,  A.    By  Mary  E.  Waller. 
Cry  of  Youth,  A.     By  Cynthia  Lombardi. 
Cup  of  Fury,  The.    By  Rupeit  Hughes. 
Curious  Quest,  The.    By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Danger  and  Other  Stories1.    By  A.  Conan  Doyle. 
Dark  Hollow,  The.    By  Anna  Katharine  Green. 
Dark  Star,  The.     By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 
Daughter  Pays,  The.     By  Mrs.  Baillie  Reynolds. 
iDay  of  Days,  The.    By  Louis  Joseph  Vance. 
Depot  Master,  The.     By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 
Destroying  Angel,  The.    By  Louis  Joseph  Vance, 
Devil's  Own,  The.    By  Randall  Parrish. 
Devil's  Paw,  The.    By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 
Disturbing  Charm,  The.     By  Berta  Ruck. 
Door  of  Dread,  The.    By  Arthur  Stringer. 
Dope.    By  Sax  Rohmer. 

Double  Traitor,  The.    By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 
Duds.    By  Henry  C.  Rowland. 


Popular  Copyright  Novels 

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!Ask  Your  Dealer  for  a  Complete  List  of 
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Empty  Pockets,    By  Rupert  Hughes. 
Erskine  Dale  Pioneer.    By  John  Fox,  Jr. 
Everyman's  Land.    By  C.  N.  &  A.  M.  Williamson. 
Extricating  Obadiah.    By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 
Eyes  of  the  Blind,  The.    By  Arthur  Somers  Roche. 
Eyes  of  the  World,  The.    By  Harold  Bell  Wright. 

Fairfax  and  His  Pride.    By  Marie  Van  Vorst, 

Felix  O'Day.    By  F.  Hopkinson  Smith. 

54-40  or  Fight.     By  Emerson  Hough. 

Fighting  Chance,  The.    By  Robert  W.  Chambers'. 

Fighting  Fool,  The.    By  Dane  Coolidge. 

Fighting  Shepherdess,  The.    By  Caroline  Lockhart, 

Financier,  The.     By  Theodore  Dreiser. 

Find  the  Woman,    By  Arthur  Somers  Roche. 

First  Sir  Percy,  The.    By  The  Baroness  Orczy, 

Flame,  The.    By  Olive  Wadsley. 

For  Better,  for  Worse.    By  W.  B.  Maxwell, 

Forbidden  Trail,  The.    By  Honore  Willsie. 

Forfeit,  The.     By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Fortieth  Door,  The.    By  Mary  Hastings  Bradley. 

Four  Million,  The.    By  O.  Henry. 

From  Now  On.    By  Frank  L.  Packard. 

Fur  Bringers,  The.    By  Hulbert  Footner. 

Further  Adventures  of  Jimmie  Dale.    By  Frank  L.  Packard 

Ge?  Your  Man.    By  Ethel  and  James  Dorrance. 

Girl  in  the  Mirror,  The.    By  Elizabeth  Jordan. 

Girl  of  O.  K.  Valley,  The.    By  Robert  Watson. 

Girl  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  A.  By  Payne  Erskine. 

Girl  from  Keller's,  The.    By  Harold  Bindloss. 

Girl  Philippa,  The.    By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 

Girls  at  His  Billet,  The.    By  Berta  Ruck, 

Glory  Rides  the  Range.    By  Ethel  and  James  Borrance. 

Gloved  Hand,  The.    By  Burton  E.  Stevenson. 

God's  Country  and  the  Woman.    By  James  Oliver  Curwood. 

God's  Good  Man.    By  Marie  Corelli. 

Going  Some.    By  Rex  Beach. 

Gold  Girl,  The.    By  James  B.  Hen'dryX. 

Golden  Scorpion,  The.    By  Sax  Rohmer, 


ftOB 


